Advent Crossover Crisis
by IronicSnap
Summary: Three heroes. One villain. A location. Every day. See your favourite characters (and probably tons you've never heard of) banter, bond and battle as events build into an overarching story, culminating in a cataclysmic finale. Guaranteed Daily Updates! The only flaw of this story is that TOO MUCH AMAZING STUFF HAPPENS! Rated T for swearing and violence, but relax, there's no kissing
1. Day -7: Deadpool and She-Hulk present:

"Hey there, true believers! It's me, Deadpool, also known as the Crimson Comedian, the Regeneratin' Degenerate, and the Merc with a Mouth!"

**"**And I'm She-Hulk, otherwise known as… well, She-Hulk's all I got.**"**

"The two of us have a lot in common. We're both superheroes from the Marvel Universe -"

**"**Deadpool, you aren't a super_hero_.**" **

"-have probably saved the world a few times -"

**"**Who hasn't?**"**

"-but most importantly, neither of us has a lot of respect for the fourth wall. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why me and Shulkie have been asked to let you, the readers, know what's going to go down in exactly one week's time."

**"**Put simply, IronicSnap has prepared a big massive crossover fight thingy, and he's going to update it every day from the first to the 24th of December, guaranteed. The final three days will even receive two updates each.**"**

"Think of it like an advent calendar. Only, instead of chocolate or dinky little toys, there are explosions, banter, and cataclysmic showdowns!"

**"**Exactly.**"**

"She-Hulk, it was your turn to say something, and that was the best you could manage?"

**"**I didn't really have anything else to add at that point.**"**

"Well now you've disrupted the flow!**"**

**"**Does it really matter?**"**

"I make a living out of talking incessantly. I think I should know."

**"**Can we move on?**"**

"I don't know, can we?"

**"**I'm going to say 'Yes'.**"**

"And I'm going to say, 'Oh please Mister Cheetah, don't eat me, argh, no, help, please, arrrrrrgh'."

**"**…What?**"**

"That reminds me!," exclaims Deadpool, clicking a finger. "IronicSnap has one promise to make regarding this whole deal; he's including no OCs whatsoever."

**"**That's hard for him. He has about 80 at this stage.**"**

"And 7 of them are kind of cool! But here's the thing; this is _Fanfiction_.net. You came here to read about characters you already know."

**"**Chances are, you're here to read about characters you already know do horrible, depraved, unspeakable things to each other, but yeah, point remains the same.**"**

"So with that in mind, only pre-existing characters are going to partake in this shindig. Snap's not even going to use OCs he's already established on the site, so don't expect to see that crackerbox Wazimu or that man-among-men Link Deas."

**"**Wait, Snap doesn't own Link Deas.**"**

"Yeah, but only the version of Link Deas written by Snap has a chance of surviving five seconds in this thing. I mean, in the book, he doesn't even have a gun!"

**"**That's true, and we all know how much stock you put in firearms.**"**

"Teehee. Stock. Gun pun! Which brings us on to our next point we have to cover; some characters will die, so don't get too attached to anyone. There, covered. What's the next point?"

**"**Well, that was a bit unceremonious.**"**

"Not unlike the death many people will receive! You gotta keep lighthearted about this kind of stuff."

**"**Riiiight… Think we should list the franchises involved now?**"**

"Ohh, ohh, can I? Let me do it!"

**"**If you think you're up for it, shoot.**"**

"Hooray!" Deadpool inhales sharply for an extended period of time. "Sly Cooper, Marvel Comics [616 and Avengers Films], Avatar the Last Airbender, Sleeping Beauty, Ratchet and Clank, The Adventures of Dr McNinja, Street Fighter, inFamous, Team Fortress 2, Lion King (well golly there's a surprise), Death Note, Skulduggery Pleasant, Stargate SG-1, V for Vendetta, Resident Evil, Ace Attorney, Super Smash Bros Brawl (that just saved me some time), Tangled, DC Comics [Batman: Brave and the Bold], Jak and Daxter, ThatGuyWithTheGlasses .com, Star Wars [Knights of the Old Republic], Red vs. Blue, Portal, Kung Fu Panda, Metal Gear Solid, Professor Layton, Psychonauts, Dr Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, Princess and the Frog, Half-Life, Final Fantasy X, and Hype the Time Quest. Oh, and Minecraft and Left 4 Dead, but that's only locations. Huff, huff, huff…"

**"**That was impressive! You sure that superhuman lung capacity isn't a power of yours? Oh, legal moment - it goes without saying that Snap owns none of these.**"**

"Yeah… that."

**"**If the list above looks a little daunting, don't worry. Snap doesn't expect every reader to recognize every character, nor does he expect you to research those you don't. With luck, they'll be well-written enough that you'll get an accurate impression of them. That said, Dr Horrible is only 40 minutes long, available on the Internet, and very, very good… *cough*…**"**

"Product placement, classy. Anything else?"

**"**Well, we can't finish up without mentioning that the wonderful cover was drawn by Jakurith, who you should totally look up on deviantArt and donate lots of money to.**"**

"There you go again! Must be a lawyer thing. I think we're about done here, don't you?"

**"**Yep, that's everything.**"**

"Well, in that case, come back on the first of December to see the story launch! I know that a week in Internet time is pretty long, but you can spend that time to tell _**all**_ of your friends about this."

**"**Have a friend you know likes fanfiction? Tell them about this story! Have a friend who you suspect might like fanfiction? Risk exclusion and mockery by telling _them_ as well! IronicSnap cares more about the number of his reviews that he does about your social well-being.**"**

"And remember, the first of December is the first instalment – an extra-long opening chapter!"

**"**It's only extra-long because you're in it, and you're incapable of shutting your mouth.**"**

"See? You heard the lady, how could you possibly pass up the opportunity to read a copious amount of my scintillating wit?"

**"**Yeah, well said. Any questions are very welcome. Answers might not be provided, but it's a free Internet. See you in a week!**"**

"Toodles!"


	2. Day 1: Once Upon

_You could say I've lived an unusual life. I'm the latest in a long, long line of master thieves, stretching back for thousands of years. When I was just a kid, I saw my parents get murdered. Raised in an orphanage with my two best friends, I spent my adult life travelling the world, facing everything from voodoo priestesses to sea monsters to the giant robotic owl who killed not only my parents, but essentially everyone in my family except myself. Hell, thanks to my inventive genius of a friend I've even torn through the space-time continuum faster than an under-funded museum's security system. _

_But, while we're talking about time, there's one thing I've noticed over the years. No matter how strange your life usually is, you can rely on fate to toss you a particularly weird day every so often. Sometimes, you might even get a weird week._

_This is the story of a weird month I once had._

* * *

The breeze blew through a quiet, handsome, and geometric land. It was a land that had a heterogeneous geographical beauty; large deserts, steep mountains, snowy tundra, and most commonly, grassy plains. Each one of these features was comprised of neat cubes of natural material, making the region odd but welcoming. Cubic trees grew upon cubic soil, and cubic animals lounged in the square shade lazily grazing on cubic grass. Though rugged, the country was in a state of tranquillity.

It was in one of those grassy plains, near the ocean, that the following event occurred. It was a sudden change, one which seemingly defied the currently understood laws of physics. At one moment, there was absolutely nothing on the plain, and the next, there stood three distinctive, varied, and thoroughly confused figures.

To begin, there was silence. All three individually studied their two counterparts. Because their surprise was evident, the three quickly deduced that their new friends were as utterly lost as they themselves were. When some time had passed and it was clear that no-one was about to punch anyone else in the face, the trio relaxed slightly.

One was a dark grey raccoon standing confidently on two legs. He wore a shirt, cap, gloves and silk shoes in the same shade of blue, the shirt and gloves having golden trims. His brown eyes were adorned with a completely extraneous domino mask, and in one hand he held a peculiar cane: a wooden handle with a gold crescent at the top, giving the item the overall shape of a question mark.

Next to him was a tall, muscular man, shifting on the soles of his feet with erratic energy. He wore a whole-body spandex costume mostly red in colour with black parts scattered throughout, in particular surrounding his white-covered eyes, giving the impression of a blood-soaked panda. His clothing was covered with pouches of dubious use, and his belt was buckled with a cartoonish approximation of his face.

The third person was a short, elderly man with a large grey beard. He was wearing a brown robe under ridged black armour with dark red edges, but seemed to be comfortable in it, as though he had been wearing similar apparel his whole life - that, or he was just thoroughly easy-going. His golden eyes belied the wisdom that comes from living life fully for several decades.

It was the second man who spoke first. "I'm guessing neither of you know what in the sacred name of Bea Arthur is going on here either, huh?"

The raccoon shrugged. "Beats me. Your guess is as good as mine," he said in a smooth voice.

"I'm afraid I have no idea," answered the old man.

"Well ain't that just super." The spandex clad man scratched his head. "Okay, I'm not a big fan of awkward silence - or any silence, now that you mention it - so I say we at _least_ starting talking."

"Man's got a point," smiled the raccoon, pleased to move past the silence. "The name's Sly Cooper. I've made something of a name for myself in the ever-lucrative industry of master thievery." Without any apparent motion on the part of Sly, his two new companions found themselves each holding a blue calling card in the shape of a raccoon's head.

"Ooh, cool party trick," said the red man, tossing the card away with a flick of his wrist. "Me next! Hello, my name is Deadpool. I punch, stab, shoot and explode things and people for fun and profit. Also, I talk a lot."

The third man carefully placed the card he received in one of his large sleeves. "My name is Iroh," he said. "I was once a general of the Fire Nation's army, although thankfully my days are now spent on more pleasant pursuits." He coughed. "Or at least, they normally are."

"Exactly," said Sly. "Now that introductions are over with, we might want to start working out what's going on." With that, he opened a red bag strapped to his leg and checked inside it.

"What are you looking for?" queried Deadpool. "Is it candy? Explosives? Explosive candy? Because that's a terrible idea. You're stupid if that's what's in there."

"I'm checking to see what equipment I have," was the answer. "I don't want to have to rely on something which fell out of my pocket when I was… doing whatever I did to get here."

Deadpool considered this for a moment, and then slapped the sides of his head with a sudden realization. "_My weapons_!" he yelled fearfully. He brought his hands to his back, hoping to feel the dual katanas usually strapped there, and upon being disappointed, he began to hurriedly open every pouch on his person.

As Iroh watched Deadpool panic, Sly finished his check. "Just my Binucucom and cane," he declared. "Not much, but the basics I need to be effective."

"Speak for yourself," said Deadpool sullenly. "No swords, no guns - not even a measly little grenade! Looks like for this caper Deadpool's going to have to rely on the good old fashioned way," he announced, cracking his knuckles. "What about you, Iroh? They rob you too?"

Iroh checked his pockets and sleeves. "Actually, it seems I've gained something instead."

"_What_? How is that fair?!" demanded Deadpool.

"It is unwise to expect justice in all places," answered Iroh. "Sometimes you must use the Pai-sho tiles you have been dealt."

"…What?"

"I'm guessing he's telling you 'life's not fair'," translated Sly. "So, what is it?"

Iroh took out a sheet of paper and squinted at it. "It's a letter addressed to the three of us."

"Does it have a return address?" asked Deadpool, hopeful for vengeance.

Iroh shook his head. "It merely states that we have to defeat someone named Maleficent."

"Sounds interesting," said Sly slowly.

"Sounds suspicious," countered Deadpool. "Still, it's nice to have something to do. It's like a hit, only without being paid. And some moron took my swords. And there's an old guy and a raccoon here too." He paused. "It isn't that much like a hit now I think about it."

"The question is how we find this person." Iroh gestured to the surrounding countryside, and Sly and Deadpool began to realize the vast size of the area they were in. The three stood in contemplation for a moment.

"I'm just thinking aloud here, but… I can climb that mountain range pretty easily," said Sly, pointing to the mountainous area behind him with his cane. "That covers north. From the looks of things, there's only sea to the south, so if you two each take west and east, we should be able to find this 'Maleficent'."

Iroh gave the raccoon a sceptical look. "Are you sure it's wise to split our forces like that?"

"Ah, that's the beauty of it," explained Sly. "With my Binucucom, and the higher altitude, I can keep tabs on you two pretty easily. The view is always better from the rooftops – or mountaintop, as the case may be. If either of you run into trouble, I can get us to regroup."

"You might have something there!" said Deadpool. "Of course, if I run into trouble, I'll be fine, but still, good principle. Alright General, which direction do you want?"

Iroh looked past Deadpool to see a sandy beach leading in to further plains, and then turned to look behind him at a quiet, lush forest. "I think I'd prefer east," he answered, indicating the forest.

"I got west then."

"Alright gentlemen," said Sly, "good hunting." With that the three men turned and walked their separate ways.

* * *

Not far from the plain where this took place, within a deep and lightless cave, someone was waiting. The purple trim of her black dress was barely distinguishable in the darkness, as was her green skin. The sorceress planted her thin, short staff firmly on the ground as she brought her hand to her pointed chin, considering her options.

Deciding to test the fools she had been pitted against, she commanded the dark creatures huddled on the other side of the cave to go out and destroy them. The closest to the entrance, a blue-shirted zombie, obediently walked out into the sunlight, burst into flames, and died.

Maleficent was taken aback by this unforeseen setback, but recovered quickly. She enchanted the monsters against sunlight, wreathing them in green flame. The next creature, a skeleton with a bow, tentatively stepped outside, and remained alive, if indeed that is the accurate term. The rest of the creatures promptly followed suit, spilling from the cave and into the land.

Maleficent walked slowly to the mouth of the cave and observed the ruggedly beautiful world. She found it sickeningly pristine. Experimentally, she pointed a finger at a nearby block of stone and wrenched it out of the ground with a flick of her wrist.

As she floated it from side to side, her smile returned.

* * *

Sly hooked his cane into the dirt above him, pulled back on it, and jumped upwards, reaching the peak of the mountain. He spun in the air and landed lightly on a flower, balancing on it.

"Little pointless showing off when no-one's around," he remarked to himself, "but I wouldn't want to make things too easy."

He hopped off the flower and took out his Binucucom. It was a small blue device; computerized binoculars, as the name suggested. He zoomed in on the forest Iroh had entered. For a while, he could see only trees, but eventually noticed motion. He realized it wasn't Iroh; it was a horde of some sort moving towards the general's position.

Sly frowned and swerved his Binucucom to check the direction Deadpool had gone in, and sure enough he could make out a group of skeletons heading that way as well.

"Looks like we've got company," Sly mused. "But, wait… If they're after Iroh and Deadpool, then shouldn't there should be some after me as w-"

Before he could finish this thought, Sly heard a hissing noise just behind him. He whirled around to see a horrific monster with green skin and sunken, soulless black eyes. The creature's appearance would have been startling enough, but it was also bulging unnaturally and flashing white.

Reflexively, Sly leaped away from the beast. As he did so, it erupted into an explosion which threw Sly back and ripped an unseemly crater out of the pristine ground.

Sly landed awkwardly, sliding on the dirt. He hadn't moved quickly enough to escape the full blast radius, but he didn't seem to be grievously harmed.

He looked up to see even more Creepers standing behind the crater their sibling had created, staring at him. Sly stood up straight and balanced his cane on his shoulder. "Well, that's what I get for talking to myself out loud. So you freaks want to take me on?" Sly smirked. "You're going to have to catch me first." With that Sly gracefully jumped off of the mountain.

* * *

To Deadpool's great excitement, he had found a quaint wooden cottage on the sea front. He had promptly thrown himself through a window of it in order to pillage the treasure presumably therein. There indeed was a chest inside, but to Deadpool's disappointment, there had been no diamonds or gold bars – merely dirt, stone, and a book.

Opening the latter, he read "Today I will venture out to gather materials for my portal. I already have means to ignite it, so all I need is the obsidian. In order to obtain the sufficiently large hole-shape, eight blocks will - pfft, _yawn_." He casually threw the book into the nearby stove.

"_Hey, I was reading that!"_objected the white box Deadpool thought in.

"Let's get out of here before my punching gland withers and falls off," retorted Deadpool. Almost directly after saying this, an arrow embedded itself into his back, the shaft vibrating upon impact.

"Huh," said Deadpool. "Ow."

The mercenary turned to see a skeleton holding a bow, having just fired at him through the broken window.

"_Looks like we can stop reading,"_ said the yellow box Deadpool also thought in,_ "and go play outside instead!"_

"Hey Jack!" yelled Deadpool. "Eat damn hamburger once in while. Actually, no. _**Eat this.**_" With that Deadpool ripped the arrow out of his back and flicked it at the skeleton. It embedded in its head and killed it.

Deadpool kicked open the cottage door and saw three more bow-wielding skeletons in a triangle formation. "While you may outnumber me," quipped Deadpool, "I can tell you right now; you guys are boned!"

The skeleton to his left fired at him. Deadpool caught the arrow, spun on his heel, and sent the arrow hurtling into the skeleton on his right, killing it.

"_Woah, did you see that?! We caught it!" _exclaimed the yellow box.

"_Feh. Come back to me when you catch a bullet,"_ replied the white box.

Deadpool sprinted towards the skeleton on the left, dodging arrows. Upon reaching the skeleton he yelled "Shoryuken!" and knocked the creature's skull off with a twisting uppercut.

Deadpool turned his attention to the final skeleton, ready for anything. He was so prepared for anything that when Sly Cooper suddenly jumped over the monster just as the Creeper who was following him exploded, destroying both skeleton and Creeper, Deadpool didn't bat an eyelid.

"Well, that's the last of them," said Sly stoically upon landing. "Those guys should really rethink their strategy."

"Hey!" yelled Deadpool. "You just stole my kill!"

Sly turned around to face the merc. "This isn't a video game."

"Damn skippy!" answered Deadpool. "This &#%€'s written down!

"Uh, sure," said Sly uncertainly. "Listen, we better find Iroh. These things are after him too, and I'm worried for the old guy."

Deadpool shrugged. "Alright. This place just got pretty dead anyway."

Sly ran back towards the forest, past the various craters left by the Creepers who had tried and failed to take the nimble thief out with them. Deadpool quickly caught up to him.

"Hey, hey Sly," said Deadpool. "The place is dead. Get it? Cause we killed the skeletons?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"… well # +$ you then. You just don't appreciate my genius."

* * *

Sly and Deadpool tore through the forest. It wasn't long before they saw signs of the monsters set after Iroh. Sly increased his pace, concerned for the safety of the genial old man, and Deadpool copied him.

They turned a corner and were met with an interesting sight. There were a few zombies lying on the ground, charred and unmoving. In the centre of them, Iroh was sitting peacefully on the ground, examining a flower.

"Are you alright?" asked Sly.

Iroh looked up and grinned. "Ah, hello. I was just admiring the plantlife."

Both Sly and Deadpool raised an eyebrow. Deadpool leaned over and said in a stage whisper, "Psst. Sly. I think this guy is _crazy_."

Iroh put his hands on his knees and slowly entered a standing position. "Or at least I was until I was interrupted," he continued. "Can we assume this Maleficent sent them?"

"It was definitely co-ordinated, so yeah, I think so," replied Sly.

"Well, they all came from thataway," said Deadpool, pointing towards the other end of the forest, "so let's stop talking and get fighting!" He skipped away merrily, and Sly and Iroh followed him after sharing a glance.

* * *

It wasn't long before they left the forest and burst out into another meadow. In the centre, on a rough stone throne, sat a green-skinned woman wearing a black and purple flowing dress, a black horned helmet, and a sadistic smirk.

"Maleficent, I presume?" queried Sly.

The fairy leaned forward, her smile widening. "Charmed."

"On a scale on one to ten, lady," said Deadpool, waving his index finger at her, "you're screwed. Without my swords or guns, I'm going to have to _beat_ you to death."

Maleficent laughed lightly. "Such confidence. But your misguided bravery will not protect you."

She flicked a finger at Deadpool and a rock shot at him, hitting him in the face and twisting his neck back ninety degrees.

"Argh!" yelled Sly. "That's… oh. Oh no."

As shocked as Sly and Iroh were, they only became more shocked when Deadpool's arms reached up, grabbed his head, and pulled it back into place. There was a popping sound as the spine reconnected. "Oho, bad move, Wicked Witch of the West," said Deadpool. He leaped towards Maleficent, jumping over another thrown block.

Sly went to follow him, but Iroh tapped his shoulder and whispered something to him. Sly nodded and quietly walked in another direction, leaving Iroh to ponder just what style of Earthbending he was watching.

Deadpool nearly reached Maleficent, but when he got too close she changed tactics, shooting a spike of dirt and stone out of the ground which sent Deadpool into the sky. Maleficent smirked when she saw the mercenary land in a pile of broken bones.

Someone tapped her shoulder from behind. She whirled around to see Sly smiling at her. "Hi," he said.

She cast a rock at him. "You sneak up on me, only to immediately reveal yourself?"

"Well," explained Sly, ducking smoothly under her projectiles, "it was mostly for _his_ benefit."

Maleficent's eyes widened. She turned around to see Deadpool approaching her at speed. "This is for Toto!" he screamed, and punched her full force in the face. There was a slight green glow where Deadpool's fist connected. There was also a quiet cracking noise as his hand shattered.

"Huh," he said. "Ow."

"_Anyone else getting déjà vu?"_

"Magical shields," explained Maleficent. "Just a little precaution."

She blasted Deadpool and Sly away with a burst of magic. "I grow weary of this fight…" she murmured disinterestedly. She curled one hand into a fist, which glowed intensely. A black rock rose out from underground, followed by another, and another, gradually accumulating.

"Obsidian," she said, "to quicken this battle."

Iroh cleared his throat softly. "Perhaps the three of us should discuss things." Sly nodded and Deadpool, standing up from where he had landed, flexed his now healed hand silently.

"Very well," said Maleficent. "I will allow you to convene. But your choices are limited to death or surrender. And be warned; I am not terribly hospitable to prisoners." The three walked out of her earshot, her laughter echoing behind them.

"This isn't working, guys," said Sly gravely when they were satisfied she couldn't hear them. "With those shields, we're not going to win in a physical fight."

"Perhaps not through force," conceded Iroh. "But force is but one facet of combat. There is always a more tactical approach."

A block of obsidian embedded itself in the ground nearby. "I'm waiting for your answer," called Maleficent. "If you take too long, I'll just assume you choose death."

Deadpool examined the black rock, and then suddenly shouted "Ding!" as though to imply a lightbulb. "Guys, guys!" he said, waving his arms, "Pick me! Deadpool has an idea!"

"What is it?" asked Iroh.

"Are you sure you want to find out?" asked Sly worriedly.

"I read this boring diary that said something about using obsidian to make portals!" Deadpool explained. "Maybe if we can force her through one, it'll count as a Ring Out victory!"

"That's… actually a pretty solid idea," said Sly.

Deadpool gave a modest shrug. "What can I say? I'm crazy, not stupid."

"What else do you know about these portals?" asked Iroh.

"Well, they're circular - or as circular as anything gets in this Lego countryside - and they need to be ignited."

"That last part might be a problem," Sly said. "You want me to slip away and find something to start a fire?"

Iroh held up a hand. "That won't be necessary. Let's just focus on building the portal first."

The three looked at each other and nodded. Then, they collectively turned and strode back into Maleficent's view.

"So, have you come to a decision?" she mocked. During their conversation she had been gathering more obsidian. Had the trio any other plan, this would be bad news - but currently, it was a fortunate development.

"Yeah, we have," replied Sly, "but if you want to know what it is, you'll have to beat it out of us."

Maleficent smiled. "Very well." And with that, she flicked a wrist and dozens of black blocks flew towards the thief, mercenary, and former general.

Instinctively, they fanned out to better avoid the projectiles. Sly stood in the middle, dodging the rocks. Deadpool stood to the left, redirecting the blocks towards Sly where possible. Iroh did the same, and doubtlessly someone would have commented on his surprising strength for his age had anyone been paying sufficient attention to him. When some obsidian had formed a U shape, Sly jumped atop it in order to finish the ceiling. Maleficent noticed what they were doing - it would be hard not to - but she neither understood nor cared about its significance.

Soon, the portal was completed. Sly realized they hadn't planned this part, and yelled "Now what?"

"Charge at her!" Iroh said, as he moved towards the portal.

"Yay!" chirped Deadpool. "Back to fighting!"

He ran at Maleficent, taking a direct blow from an obsidian block and barely slowing down. Once within punching range, Maleficent blasted him to the side. The merc hit a stray block of obsidian spine-first, a deadly blow which would keep him down for an entire minute. Sly followed suit, and was similarly thrown by a burst of green flame. He landed awkwardly on his left arm. He checked it quickly, relieved to see it wasn't broken.

Maleficent smirked at her two downed opponents, and turned her attention to the third. Iroh stood in the obsidian frame, eyes closed, focusing on his breathing.

"You all are pathetic," said Maleficent, "but you are the worst."

Iroh continued to breathe, showing no reaction.

"You're a decrepit old fool clearly unable to fight his own battles, so you rely on others to defend you," she continued.

Iroh breathed ever deeper.

"And now you're either being impolite to your opponent, or you've gone deaf," said Maleficent. "I wouldn't be surprised in either case."

Iroh inhaled one last time.

"Can you even -" began Maleficent, before she disappeared into a seething mass of fire.

Sly looked on, amazed, as the geriatric general produced a massive gout of flame from his two hands and open mouth. The fireball was huge, powerful, and aimed squarely at Maleficent. Iroh relented after a few seconds, and Maleficent once again came into view. She stood in the middle of a barren patch of burnt grass. Her shields had apparently left her unscathed, but she seemed off-balance.

She glowered at Iroh furiously. "You want fire?" she said, her voice crackling with fury. "Very well. I shall give you _fire_."

Green flames surrounded Maleficent, and with a noise like thunder, her silhouette grew, turning into a long shadow. She kept rising, and her shadow reformed into a jet-black, serpentine dragon with glowing green eyes and a scaled purple stomach.

"This day just gets weirder and weirder," said Sly, backing up slightly.

"Two dragons in battle?" smiled Iroh. "So be it."

Maleficent breathed green flames at Iroh. With a fluid martial arts motion, he gestured to the left with both his arms, and the flames bent away from him. Maleficent tried again and again Iroh deflected, this time to the right.

Maleficent roared in frustration and swooped down, snapping at Iroh. She bit down on Iroh's arm, drawing blood and a pained yell from the general. He countered by using his other arm to shoot flames at her eyes, forcing her to let go.

Iroh jumped backwards, so that Maleficent would have to stick her neck through the portal, which she did. She loosed another breath of flame, which he held off with his uninjured arm. Grimacing from the effort, Iroh raised one leg slightly, and with an understated kick, shot a small spurt of flame at the obsidian.

The space within the circle was suddenly full with a liquid purple essence, floating in midair. Maleficent realized too late what was about to occur, and tried to escape the portal, but her size caused her to lose vital seconds. She roared one final time, shaking the trees, before suddenly vanishing completely.

Sly hurried over to Iroh. "You alright?"

Iroh smiled. "Thank you for your concern. I should be just fine."

"That was some mighty impressive… stuff you just did," said Sly, nonplussed. "Nice going!"

"Now, the one we really should be thankful to is Deadpool."

Deadpool stood up, giggling as his spine finished knitting back into place. "Let's just agree that we're all awesome," he said.

"Good plan," grinned Sly. "So… I guess we won. I wonder what happens -"

For the second time that day, the three abruptly found themselves in a different location.

"…now," Sly finished.

They examined their surroundings. They were on the bridge of a ship. The floor, ceiling and walls were made of polished mahogany with metallic purple framework, and an old-fashioned ship's wheel stood pride of place in the middle of the room. Jarringly, however, there were also several consoles with hi-tech instrument embedded within them. The whole room was tilted at an angle, but it was almost unnoticeable - the trio only realized this fact by looking out of the large window which formed the front wall, and seeing the sandy expanse outside.

The silence was broken by Deadpool exclaiming "Cool! I'm going to go touch the doorknob of every room for good luck!" And with those words he merrily bounded out the door.

Iroh gingerly moved his bleeding arm. "There are only two rooms I'm interested in," he told Sly. "The infirmary, and anywhere an old man can take a peaceful nap."

"Good luck with that with Deadpool around," said Sly. "Need a hand tending to that arm?"

Iroh smiled gently. "No, thank you. I should be able to manage by myself."

Sly nodded. "In that case… I'm going to go find a pen and some paper."

* * *

_**I hope you enjoyed the overly long first chapter. Do you have thoughts? Predictions? A favourite colour? Let me know via review!**_


	3. Day 2: Well Here We Are Again

_So, to summarize, without anything even vaguely resembling an explanation, I found myself staying the night in a crashed ship with a crazed mercenary wearing red spandex and a retired general who, while usually a very nice guy, won't hesitate to shoot fire from his hands when aggravated. Needless to say, even for me, it was a weird day. So imagine my surprise when I woke up the next morning in the same bunk I lay down in the previous night, and not my own bed as I was fully expecting. After all, what possible explanation was there for this series of events other than a dream? I expected to have ended everything by going to sleep. But as it turned out, things were only beginning. We weren't the only ones in this boat …_

* * *

Deep underground, in one of Aperture Science's many immaculately white testing chambers, stood a four foot tall figure. Between his wide green eyes, striped yellow fur, and large pointed ears, his appearance was that of a cutesy animal on two legs. This effect was thoroughly undermined, however, by the futuristic armour he wore and the massive firearm he brandished. His tail flicked disinterestedly as he guarded his new team-mate.

"How are you doing with that door?" he called over his shoulder.

"Pretty good, Ratchet," she answered. She was an inordinately tall woman wearing a purple and white leotard. Her eyes, hair, and skin were all bright green. "Although, it's heavy-duty. I need more time to pry it open."

"Yeah, sure."

The panels at the back of the room flipped open abruptly, showing a row of white egg-shaped turrets, mounted on three spindly legs. The red lasers coming out of the eye-like sensor in the middle of their bodies all centred on Ratchet, and their sides opened, revealing a row of machine guns.

"I. See. You," one taunted in a infantile robotic voice.

"Oh man," was all Ratchet said.

As one, the turrets opened fire. Ratchet flipped to the side, and as soon as he landed, he began returning fire on the turrets. They were flimsy on their three legs and they didn't take many energy bullets before falling over, upon which they would emit a childish scream, empty their bullet chambers haphazardly, and shut down.

Ratchet focused his efforts on the ones on the right, and in doing so stepped out of visual range of the ones on the left. Those turrets realigned their sights on to his team-mate, and opened fire. She grunted from the impact of several streams of machine gun fire striking her back. Jumping behind cover, she yelled "Hey! You're supposed to be guarding me!"

"Sorry!" apologised Ratchet, sliding behind cover himself, "I'm kinda busy over here!"

His team-mate rolled her eyes. She bent down and ripped a tile the size of a dinner-table from the floor, hefted it over her head, and yelled "She-Hulk smash!" With that she threw the tile at the turrets, knocking most of them down. She-Hulk crossed the room in a single bound and unbalanced the rest by hand.

Ratchet shot a few more turrets and downed the last with a well-aimed throw of his wrench. "Sorry about that," he said, catching his wrench as it bounced back off the turret.

"I. Don't. Blame. You," offered the turret. Ratchet and She-Hulk stared at it.

"It's okay," said She-Hulk after a time. "I mean, it's more okay than letting someone else take machine guns to the back. But it's still not great."

"On the bright side, that's the last of the turrets," said Ratchet.

No sooner had he said this that, with a loud grinding noise, the ceiling began to descend.

"Oh," said Ratchet. "Awesome."

"I'll… go back to that door now," said She-Hulk, jumping back. She resumed pulling as she had been, but the door was slow to move.

Ratchet took out a different gun, aimed at the ceiling, and fired. A shell exploded against the ceiling to no effect. "That's me out of ideas," he said.

"That's a pity, because this door's not budging!" yelled She-Hulk.

Before either could utter a pithy comment about their imminent painful death, the door unexpectedly slid open smoothly. In the doorway stood a man dressed mostly as a doctor; white lab-coat, tie, black trousers and shoes, stethoscope. However, he was also wearing a black mask that covered his face except for his blue eyes and amber eyebrows, and a katana was affixed to his back.

She-Hulk and Ratchet hurried into the small room he stood in, and watched the ceiling eventually meet the floor.

"So, I imagine the indirect approach worked?" asked She-Hulk.

"It did," replied the ninja. "Although I had a lot more luck getting the door to work than the elevator."

"Let me handle that, Doc," said Ratchet. He strode up to the elevator shaft which occupied the centre of the tiny room, wrench in hand.

"You know, crazy as this place is," remarked She-Hulk conversationally, "I don't think the turrets and crushings are _completely_ unintentional."

Dr McNinja nodded. "I agree. And I imagine that there's only one person who could be working the controls."

"Who's that then?" asked Ratchet, examining the elevator.

"The man mentioned in that letter, of course," said McNinja. "M Bison."

* * *

Sly and Deadpool walked through the tight, winding corridors of the ship. Or, more accurately, Sly walked through the ship's corridors while Deadpool matched his pace by skipping, flipping, striding, sliding, cartwheeling, dancing, and moon-walking.

"So, what have you found so far?" asked Sly.

"Not much, hombre raccoonus," replied Deadpool. "Aside from the bridge, there's a busted up engine room, a big hangar with some shuttles, a little medical room, and a fancy boardroom with some spinny seats."

"That isn't a lot," agreed Sly. "You sure you checked everywhere?"

"Ah, that's the thing," said Deadpool matter-of-factly. "Those are the memorable rooms. There are tons on this boat, too many to count. Iroh's probably napping in one right now."

"Fair enough, I suppose. What about outside?"

"There's that deck you can see from the bridge, and a big old tower at the back."

"That it?"

"Yurp."

"Alright. Thanks for filling me in." Sly opened a hatch leading outside. "Say, this tower... how tall is it?"

Deadpool shook a hand. "Ihunno. More than ten storeys, at least."

Sly grinned. "Good. I wouldn't want to get complacent."

* * *

Dr McNinja strolled through another test chamber, Ratchet and She-Hulk close behind him. A panel opened up to their side, revealing another row of turrets. Ratchet fired an explosive and sent the machines spinning hectically into the air before they even had a chance to aim.

"You know, something tells me this place was designed for someone with a little less gun," he said.

"It's not the size of the gun, it's how you use it," retorted She-Hulk.

Ratchet was about to comment regarding She-Hulk's expertise in that matter when he bumped into McNinja, who had stopped.

"You two be quiet. Or at least, more inventive in your insults. I hear something up ahead."

The doctor slid noiselessly against a wall, moved along it, and soon was peering around a corner. He motioned for the others to follow him, having determined it was safe.

The three entered a larger room, similar to the others they had been in; huge, white, and littered with Science. Unlike the others, however, there was a large screen affixed high on the wall, and it displayed the image of a man.

This was no ordinary man. There were many features which made his appearance notable; his hugely muscular frame, his bright red military uniform (complete with peaked hat), and his solidly white eyes. And yet, his most striking feature was the most comparatively mundane - his wide, toothy grin.

"Ah, there you are!" he cried happily. "My apologies. I had a little trouble getting this camera to work."

"But no problems with the descending ceilings or turrets?" asked Ratchet.

The man laughed. "My, how astute! You certainly catch on quickly."

Dr McNinja grumbled. "That was totally my theory…"

"Permit me to introduce myself," said the man. "My name is M Bison. The M stands for Magnificence. I am your opponent."

"We know," said She-Hulk shortly. "There was a letter."

"Yes," said Bison, "well. Nonetheless. I look forward to facing you gentlemen warriors. Good times will be had, and spines will be broken. In fact, so excited am I for this upcoming bout of ours that I've grown quite bored of sitting here by my lonesome. I've cleared the path ahead for you. Do hurry up. Adieu!" The screen went black.

"Interesting guy," remarked Ratchet. "He seems very… friendly."

"Let's not dawdle," said She-Hulk, cracking her knuckles. "I can't wait to knock a few off those big white teeth out."

Dr McNinja again took point, leading the group through a newly opened door, muttering something about the World's Greatest Detective.

* * *

Iroh woke from his nap, and immediately winced. He sat up and gingerly examined his arm. The wound was more severe than he had realized: Maleficent had left several jagged gashes, and while Iroh's military training had enabled him to stop the bleeding relatively quickly, his arm was still very painful. He knew that in this state, he couldn't Firebend effectively.

He stood up shakily. He decided to see if there was anything on hand to numb his pain - herbs, perhaps. Of course, he knew that there wasn't much he could do about the arm himself, but it was better than nothing.

Keeping his arm close to his chest, he pushed open the door with his good hand and headed down the hallway.

* * *

With M Bison working with them, and not against them, it didn't take long for the three heroes to make their way towards their opponent. They took a direct route, cutting through not only the gleaming test chambers, but also abandoned offices, mechanical tubing, and the dank, rusty in-between spaces which were hidden in every corner of Aperture Science. The complex was even more vast, complicated, and needlessly deadly than the three of them had imagined.

They arrived at the centre, and took a moment to take in the sight. They were stood in yet another office, one that could be found in any company headquarters; except for the fact the windows gave a view of an immense cylindrical pit. The pit was so vast that neither the top nor the bottom could be seen from their viewpoint. In the middle, seemingly held aloft by the myriad of thin wires attached to it, was a long and thin metallic structure. A single walkway attached it to the office the three stood in.

"Stylish," She-Hulk said eventually.

"That walkway has no railings…" noted Ratchet.

"Does this worry you?" asked McNinja.

"No," answered Ratchet, "but it is a little weird."

"Time's wasting, fellas," said She-Hulk. "Let's keep moving."

They quickly navigated through the office, past an empty room where a presentation about the company's supercomputer played automatically. They came to a narrow doorway which lead to the walkway. Ratchet took point, more than a little nervous of Bison being prepared to break the walkway as soon as they all used it. Dr McNinja went behind him, somewhat more relaxed.

A laser grid erected itself sharply as soon as both Ratchet and the doctor stood on the walkway, cutting off She-Hulk from the two others.

"I'm sorry, but I _was_ clear," intoned M Bison's voice over the intercom. "I am awaiting a battle with gentle_men_ warriors. I'll deal with the _woman_ separately."

"Oh cool, he's prejudiced," remarked Ratchet. "That basically gives us free reign to really kick the stuffing out of him. You know. For equality."

"Prejudiced and pretty stupid to boot," commented She-Hulk. "I mean, if you're going to be misogynist, don't be misogynist in front of the giant radioactive woman."

Dr McNinja briefly examined the grid. "Looks hastily put together. Should be fairly simple to get you past this somehow, She-Hulk."

She-Hulk waved a hand indifferently. "It's fine. You two go on ahead and warm him up for me. I'll find a way across."

Ratchet and Dr McNinja began to traverse the walkway. It was suspended over a huge chasm, the bottom of which was out of sight.

"The space in this place is insane," noted Ratchet, looking over the edge. "Say, Doc. Maybe it would be a good idea if instead of you facing him with me, you use your ninja tricks to…" Ratchet looked up to see he was alone on the walkway. "Huh. Never mind. I guess."

Casting a wistful glance at his own back, Ratchet checked his gun, crossed the walkway, and kicked down the door.

The room was spacious and as coldly clean as any test chamber. To Ratchet's immediate left and right, there was a tight space that housed two computer consoles. However, this area opened out to a wide, circular room. In the centre, there was an ergonomic glass platform, and it was upon this that M Bison sat. He swung his legs over the side, grinning. His grin only widened when he saw the Lombax enter the room.

"Ah! There you are." M Bison hopped down. The floor cracked very slightly where his feet landed. "Where is your compatriot?"

"You mean the ninja?" asked Ratchet. "I don't know. He's a ninja."

M Bison laughed. "Ha. Yes. Very clever."

There followed from this an awkward pause, where neither fighter made any move.

"Uh," said Ratchet, "well?"

"I could ask the same of you," replied M Bison, "although I would choose larger words to do so."

"Right... So... What exactly are you waiting for?"

"For you to put down that weapon of yours. I only fight man-to-man."

"Oh. Yeah, that's going to be a problem. I only fight behind a nice big gun."

M Bison's face fell. "Please tell me that's not the truth."

"Well, a big wrench works too..." Ratchet levelled his blaster at M Bison. The warlord seemed concerned, so Ratchet taunted "What's wrong? Have you suddenly grown a brain? Be a real shame to blow it out of your head so soon."

"On the contrary, I am not frightened, merely… disappointed," said Bison. "Here we are, two noble -"

"Yeah, yeah, gentlemen warriors…"

"- and you mean to do battle with a firearm?" M Bison shook his head. "For shame, sir."

Ratchet scoffed. "I'm like a third your size! A fist-fight wouldn't be fair at all!"

"Be that as it may, it is how true warriors do battle."

As Ratchet and M Bison continued to argue about honour, Dr McNinja slowly crept out from behind one of the computer consoles. He sat down and began tapping at the keyboard, trying to gain access to Aperture's systems. This was more his brother's territory, but the doctor assured himself that he could probably do what had to be done.

M Bison sighed loudly. "That's it. I tire of this." He rushed forward suddenly, catching Ratchet by surprise. Ratchet managed to flip to the side, but Bison grabbed his blaster and flung it away. Ratchet produced another and Bison kicked it out of his hand. Another, and Bison slapped it. Another, and Bison crushed the barrel.

"How many of these do you have?!" he demanded.

"Lots," smiled Ratchet. "You'll be at this a while."

Bison grabbed Ratchet by the throat and lifted him. "Better, then, to just crush your skull and be done with it."

Ratchet kicked at Bison's muscular arms, but it was futile. He tried firing at Bison's head, but the larger fighter's hold didn't allow him the aim. Things were desperate for Ratchet.

It was quite fortuitous, then, that at that moment a green fist slammed into the side of Bison's head. Surprised, he released Ratchet and stumbled away a few steps.

She-Hulk helped the Lombax stand. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "Where'd you spring from?"

"Laser-grid gave out," she grinned. "Guess McNinja did it."

"Sure did!" called McNinja from the computer.

M Bison collected himself, raised his fists, and examined She-Hulk. "Oh, marvellous. At least tell me _you_ fight with your fists?"

"It's the only way to go," she replied.

M Bison shrugged to himself. "Beggars can't be choosers." He ran at her.

Bison and She-Hulk soon blended into a brawling blur of green and red. Ratchet picked up his nearest weapon and locked on to Bison, but stopped himself from firing. She-Hulk was always too close to avoid collateral damage. Ratchet, keeping his sights trained on Bison, slowly backed away until he was next to McNinja.

"Aren't you gonna join in?" he queried.

McNinja shook his head. "I think we could spend all day punching that guy and still get nowhere. So I'm working on an alternative."

"Which is?"

"Dunk him in some Science. I'm sure that'll at least slow him down." He thought for a moment. "Or, like, make him 50 feet tall and immortal. But hey, we won't know til we try!"

Ratchet paled. "I don't like this plan!"

"Trust me. I'm a doctor."

Bison kicked She-Hulk into the wall and it bent around her. She crawled out of it, no worse for wear, and charged at him.

"Okay, I have a very short term plan that'll buy us some time," announced McNinja, a schematic of Aperture Science on one screen and a list of testing apparatus on another. "Ratchet, I'm going to need you to blow a hole in the roof."

"Well, normally I don't condone such destruction," rejoined Ratchet sarcastically, "but if I must..." He pulled out yet another massive weapon, and began repeatedly shelling the ceiling.

M Bison noticed this. He grabbed She-Hulk by the throat and casually craned his neck to get a better look. "What's this, hmm?"

She-Hulk twisted in his grip and managed to forcefully plant a sneakered foot in Bison's face. He released her, and she began to barrage him with punches.

Meanwhile, Dr McNinja was guiding a device known as a Faith-Plate through Aperture on a robotic arm. With a blur of keystrokes, he pulled out a section of panelling in the room's floor, and hastily shoved the Faith-Plate in.

Seconds after this, Ratchet's missiles caused the ceiling to cave in, sending fragments of concrete plummeting to the floor. One hit the Faith-plate and weakly bounced a few meters in the air. McNinja swore and hurriedly set the pressure of the Faith-plate to be much higher.

"Now what?" Ratchet yelled over the crash of rubble.

"She-Hulk!" roared McNinja. She-Hulk, who had been dodging the falling debris, looked over. "Bison on black thing!" yelled McNinja.

She-Hulk nodded, knowing better than to waste time asking questions. Bison charged at her, and she jumped over him. She drove her elbow into his back, and he fell forward on to the Faith-plate.

At this point, Ratchet and Dr McNinja were escaping the quickly destabilizing room. They only had a brief glance of Bison's comical look of confusion as the Faith-Plate activated before he shot upwards. He flew through the widening gap in the ceiling like a festive red firework, straight out of the Aperture centre.

She-Hulk leaped across the room towards the door just as the room began to fall into the vast crevasse which housed it. She cleared the space to the door in one bound, and then the space from that door to safer ground in another, grabbing Ratchet and McNinja as she went. The control room fell into the dark void behind them. The trio examined their handiwork.

"I think we won, guys," said She-Hulk.

"Sure seems that way," agreed McNinja.

"Yeah!" said Ratchet. "No-one could have survived that!" Then he added "Ow!" because Dr McNinja smacked him in the back of the head.

"Don't say that!" he snapped. "Never say that!"

"Jeez, fine," said Ratchet, rubbing his head. "I'm just pointing out that it's very unlikely he-"

"Just... be quiet."

It wasn't long after that that the heroes suddenly found themselves in a ship's bridge, being watched by Deadpool.

"Yay! New people!" he cried. "Hold on while I get the others!" The mercenary bounded out of the room.

Ratchet noticed She-Hulk bury her head in her hands. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I know that guy," she said. "Let's just say he's not someone you want around if you have a headache."

Deadpool soon returned with Iroh, still clutching his arm, and Sly. When Sly saw Ratchet, they both seemed surprised.

"Hey," said Ratchet, "it's you again."

"Yeah… you too," said Sly.

"You two have met before?" asked Iroh.

"We have," said Ratchet.

"Doing what?" asked She-Hulk.

Sly shook his head. "I don't really want to discuss it."

"Same," agreed Ratchet.

"Alright," said Dr McNinja dubiously. "Moving on, can we assume that you three are in the same situation as we are?"

"If that situation is 'fight somebody in a weird place and end up here after winning', then yes. Yes we are," said Deadpool.

"Call me crazy, but if we're in the same boat, we may as well help each other out," said Sly.

"Sound policy," agreed She-Hulk. "Always better to skip over the part where the two groups of heroes wail on each other."

"I for one would happy to offer my services as an MD," said McNinja. "Or, alternatively, as a ninja. That's kind of my selling point."

"I can't put my finger on it," said Deadpool, draping his arm around McNinja, "but I really like this guy."

"Likewise," said McNinja. He then noticed Iroh's arm. "That's a nasty wound there," he said, straightening his tie. "What's the cause?"

"Dragon bite," said Iroh straight-facedly.

If Dr McNinja was surprised, he didn't show it. "Ah, I can help you with that," he said. "Want me to patch it up for you?"

"Sure," smiled Iroh. "There are some medical supplies down the hall."

"Lead on!"

The others watched them leave the bridge.

"I can already tell this is going to be more enjoyable than the alien fiasco," said Sly optimistically.

"Most things would be," replied Ratchet bleakly.

* * *

_**The plot thickens! Now, thicken the review amount by using the friendly box below.**_


	4. Episode3: I Got a Bad Feeling About This

On the Death Star, the Empire's most advanced weapon, two Stormtroopers stared vacantly at the far wall. They stood on the edge of a massive pit – there was no railing. One shifted his blaster slightly.

"So," said one, "what do you think of the new boss?"

The other shrugged. "The guy in the cape with no indoor voice?"

"Yeah."

"Kinda the same as always."

"I guess." There was a pause. "You know he asked the guys to scrounge as much tech from the garbage crushers as possible?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Said he wants to make things. A shield generator or something."

"As long as he stays up on the top level, far from us, he can do what he wants."

The two guards lapsed into silence for a few more moments. They heard a noise behind them as a air-vent cover came loose and fell to the ground, followed by the thump of someone hitting the floor. The Stormtroopers turned around to see a lioness staring up at them.

"Um," she said. "Meow."

The Stormtroopers shared a look.

"The hell is that thing?" asked one.

"A... cat, I guess?"

"Well, yeah. But what's it doing in this highly secure space-station?"

"Hmm... maybe we should call this in. Hold on while I _AUUUGH_!" The Stormtrooper yelped as the lioness leapt on top of him, knocking him over. His companion panicked and fired erratically at the lioness, missing every shot and instead hitting his colleague.

"Oh no!" he yelled. "I'm so sorry!"

The lioness swatted his blaster out his hand. He went to pick it up, tripped over it, and tumbled into the massive pit to his doom.

Vitani shook her head confusedly. She climbed back into air-vent from where she'd came and returned to the sounds of a mini-gun and hapless Stormtroopers being electrocuted.

She exited the air-vent on to a corridor occupied by two bald men. One was a hulking mountain of a man, wearing a red shirt under a black vest and huge bandoleer of bullets. He was carrying a mini-gun which looked oversized, even for him. The barrel of the gun spun as it showered the end of the hallway with bullets, and he yelled mockingly in a thick Russian accent.

The other was even more unusual. He was of a more average height, wearing a yellow courier's jacket and a backpack strapped diagonally around his torso with one strap. What made him strange was the blue lightning which crackled around his outstretched hand, which he was firing at some incoming Stormtroopers.

This man noticed Vitani. "Hey," he said. His voice was gravelly, but cordial enough.

"Hi," replied Vitani, her voice raspy. "Apparently, Doom's on the top floor."

"Yeah?" replied Cole, casually zapping lightning into the heads of more Stormtroopers. "What are you basing that on?"

"Overhead some of these idiots talking about it. Eavesdropping is the first thing a spy learns."

"_**Spy**__!" _shouted Heavy, the third man, reflexively, but he wasn't actually listening, being more focused on filling his enemies with a healthy sprinkling of bullets.

"You've been trained to be a spy?" asked Cole sceptically, throwing a electric grenade at some terrified Stormtroopers.

"_**Spy**__!_"

"Yes…?" answered the lioness.

"I find that a little hard to believe."

"You find everything I say hard to believe," protested Vitani irritably.

"That's because _lions don't talk_!" Cole almost yelled about of frustration.

"Da," piped up Heavy. Satisfied he had dealt with anyone foolish enough to attack _his _hallway, he allowed his gun to slow down and he entered the conversation. "Da, cats do not talk," he said, "and little Americans do not shoot electricity from hands. I am guessing is stranger day for me than you."

"He's got a point there," agreed Vitani.

"I suppose," said Cole sullenly, exploding a few more Stormtroopers with a missile.

"So, are you following me or what?" asked Vitani.

"I am behind you!" said Heavy. "Cat is credit to team!"

Cole cast one final glance down the hallway he was shooting down. Like Heavy, it appeared he had staved off their attackers, for now at least.

"Sure, let's go," he said. "I do some of my best ass-kicking when I have no idea what's going on."

* * *

Deadpool sat in the conference room, spinning on a chair. He whistled happily to himself until a strong hand clamped down on his head, stopping his movement.

"Oh, hi She-Hulk," he said casually. "Listen, I've kind of lost count of the intricate web of hate that surrounds me. It's embarrassing to have to ask, but do you want currently want to kill me?"

She-Hulk gave the question consideration. "No," she answered eventually, "but keep spinning on that chair and a good kicking might be in order."

"Understood, Your Honour."

She-Hulk sat down opposite him. Soon, Iroh entered wearing a cast on his arm, and sat next to the head of the table. Dr McNinja followed shortly afterwards, and Ratchet came after him. McNinja sat across from Iroh, and Ratchet stood behind him. Finally, Sly entered. There was a large seat at the head of the table. Sly walked to it, but didn't sit down, deciding instead to lean against it.

"Alright, I think you know why we're here," he began. "This clearly isn't usual for any of us."

"Is for me," answered Deadpool.

"Yeah, I can confirm that," added She-Hulk.

"Pretty bog-standard so far, considering my usual adventures," said McNinja.

Ratchet threw his hands in the air. "This is like, the third time this has happened to me. At least."

Sly blinked.

"It's unusual for me, if that's any help," said Iroh meekly.

"Okay... let me try again. You all know why we're here. We have to discuss this… unusually usual thing."

"Well, what is there to discuss?" asked She-Hulk. "We're here. We don't know why."

"There are bad guys," pointed out McNinja.

"There _are_ bad guys. And… that's it."

"Well, here's how I see it," said Sly. "There were three of us. Then, three more. So there's probably going to be three more again."

"Your logic is bullet-proof," said Deadpool.

"So, maybe we should try to organize ourselves a bit," Sly continued. "If there's going to be more heroes, there's going to be more villains."

"Not our villain," said Ratchet proudly. "No-one could have survived that."

Dr McNinja banged his head onto the table. "Stop _saying_ that!"

"What exactly do you suggest?" asked Iroh. "Judging from our group so far, strict organization would be... difficult."

"I'm not asking for things to be strict," answered Sly, "but I'd like to have a team where people have roles. Dr McNinja, for example, would be the medic."

"That much we've established," said the doctor, rubbing his forehead slightly.

"I've just been looking at the engine room," said Ratchet. "The place is trashed. So, I could fix it up?"

"That's a great idea. Getting this ship working would be huge."

"If you want, I can watch the desert in case someone approaches," said She-Hulk. "Law school prepares your mind for crushing boredom."

"I'm afraid I can't offer much at the moment," coughed Iroh.

"And that's okay," said Sly.

"You shouldn't move that arm. Doctor's orders," said McNinja. "It could take weeks to fully heal as it is."

Deadpool had his hand up for some time. Sly noticed and said "Um, yes?"

"So... there's going to be _more_ people," said Deadpool.

"Yes...?"

"I demand to personally greet each one. I'm very social."

"That might be a good idea," said She-Hulk. "And be sure to collect the letters off everyone," she added, pointing to the two near-identical pieces of paper the two groups had each received, lying on the table. "We can use them to make a list."

"A list?" groaned Deadpool. "Wow. Incredible. You managed, with one word, to make this magically insane set-up boring. Nice job, She-Hulk. That's fantastic."

"People will always try to maintain their own order when surrounded by chaos," noted Iroh.

"You be quiet. You and your _wisdom_."

"Suck it up, Deadpool," said Ratchet from the corner. "If we have a list of everyone, it might help us figure out just what is going on."

"Fine," sulked Deadpool. "I'll take the &€ #% letters."

"We all have our jobs," said Sly. "Ratchet will get to work on the engine. She-Hulk will take up guard duty. Dr McNinja will establish himself in the medical station, and Deadpool in the bridge, since that's where people seem to arrive. Iroh, you take it easy. I'll check in on everyone to make sure everything's going okay. That's everything – so let's get going."

* * *

Cole, Vitani and Heavy stood on a platform which was slowly ascending towards the top floor. They had been waiting for the elevator to arrive at its destination for quite some time.

"This is fun," noted Cole grimly.

"Oh, yeah," agreed Vitani.

"_**My weapon hungers for the flesh of cowards!**_" shouted Heavy. Cole and Vitani nodded understandingly.

###

Unbeknownst to the three, their opponent was watching them via the security systems. Dr Doom's metallic mask scowled down at the computer screen which displayed them.

"**Doom's** enemies draw nearer!" he announced loudly to no-one in particular. "My victory is close at hand. However, **Doom** is no fool. This MacGrath is easily the strongest of the motley assemblage that means to do me battle. Isolating him would be a judicious move."

After checking that both the devices he had recently constructed for himself were operable – they were, of course – he set to work.

###

At last, the elevator arrived at the floor which housed the Death Star's bridge. Heavy excitedly heaved his weapon and ran off of the platform. Vitani followed him, and glanced back at Cole.

"Aren't you coming?"

Cole was standing thoughtfully on the elevator. "It's just... I got a bad feeling about th-"

At that second, the platform was rocked with an explosion. Cole was unbalanced, stumbling away from his team-mates.

"It's a trap!" yelled Heavy.

Cole ran towards the door, but the platform was already falling down its shaft. He leaped towards the ledge, but missed. Vitani and Heavy watched him plummet into the darkness.

There was a shocked silence.

"Ohhhhhh no," said Vitani slowly. "He... he was kind of our hope."

"Then maybe is time for new hope," said Heavy stoically. "Doom is still ahead. We keep going."

Vitani continued to stare down the pit for a few moments, then turned away. "Alright, then."

The top floor was seemingly deserted. No-one challenged them as they crossed a corridor towards the bridge. They soon found their destination and hurried inside. The door slammed shut menacingly behind them.

The bridge was small enough considering the overall size of the Death Star. The walls, floor and ceiling were of a darker metal than the rest of the station. Control panels were to either side of the room, and at the front, a staircase led to a slightly elevated stage and a long view of the space outside.

On this platform was a man wearing a green hood and thick cape. He was facing away from them, inspecting the vacuum of space. He turned, revealing a grey suit of armour which covered him from head to foot. His blue eyes, the only thing visible of his face, smouldered with rage.

"You are the simpletons who dare to face **Doom**!" It was not a question. "Prepare to face your end!"

Vitani tried to think of a sardonic comment to make, and failed. The man across from them was overblown and almost ridiculous, and yet that didn't make him any less terrifying. Instead she just meekly nodded to Heavy. Heavy smirked, stepped forward, and activated his mini-gun.

Heavy yelled incomprehensibly as he emptied Sasha's vast ammunition reserves at Doom, barely audible over the deafening scream of his weapon. Doom stood silently, arms folded. There was a slight blue glow where the bullets bounced off his chest. His mask frowned down at Heavy and Vitani.

Eventually, the roar of the gun de-crescendoed, and Heavy's shouting died down to match it. The spinning barrel rolled to a stop. Heavy was shaken.

"No," he said, unusually quiet. "Is impossible."

"Search your feelings, you know it to be true," proclaimed Dr Doom, unfolding his arms and striding down towards him. "I, **Dr Victor von Doom**, have outsmarted bullets."

Heavy stared at him. Then he dropped Sasha, and ran at Doom, fists raised. "_**AAAAAANNGGH YAAAA DAAAA!**_"

Doom neither slowed nor quickened his pace, prepared to strike back. Heavy came in with a powerful right hook. Doom caught his fist and shot him in the face with a laser in his palm. Heavy staggered backwards. Doom shot upwards by about six feet and then flew towards Heavy feet-first, yelling _**"FOOT DIVE!"**_ Heavy fell to the ground after Doom's armoured boot sank into his face. Doom splayed his fingers, pointing each one at Heavy's prone form. He yelled "_**PHOTON ARRAY!**__"_ and lasers shot out of each fingertip. Heavy twitched as the lasers impacted against him, and became still.

"One falls before **Doom**. And now, it is merely a matter of..." Doom looked up and trailed off. Vitani wasn't where she had been. With the exits sealed and no other cover in the room, it was obvious she was hiding under the control panel. Dr Doom rolled his eyes.

"**Doom** has no time to play childish games," he announced to the room. "Instead, I will merely leave and destroy the entire bridge. Such is the maje- _Gah_!"

A lightning bolt impacted on the side of Doom's head. His shield protected him, but he still lost his footing briefly. He turned around and saw an arm sticking through a newly melted hole in the door. The arm was wearing a bright yellow sleeve and made a very rude gesture towards Doom.

Doom growled and shot some energy blasts at the arm. It quickly retreated into the hole, dodging them. The hole widened after Doom's attack, and soon someone stepped through it.

"Cole!" came a voice from under the control panel. "Um, I mean, meow."

Doom scoffed. "The return of the famous Electric Man."

"Infamous might be a better word," rejoined Cole, smiling thinly.

"I see your fall did little to placate you."

"Not even a little," Cole replied. "I caught a pipe halfway down, for a start. Maybe next time you'll use that tactic on someone who doesn't climb stuff as a hobby."

"Bah! It matters not to **Doom** what your hobbies are – or indeed how long you were entangled in my trap. Observe; I have already dealt with one of your comrades, and you will be no different. All shall bow before **Doom**!"

Cole yawned. "Another day, another freak yelling at me. Well, come on. Let's get this started."

"Your insolence will gain you only a slow death!"

Doom flew towards Cole, hands reaching out. Cole fired a few lightning bolts at him, and then rolled to the side, dodging him. As Doom flew by him, Cole tagged him with a grenade made of electricity. It exploded and stunned Doom briefly.

Vitani crept out from under the control panel and pulled Heavy's bulk to the side with difficulty. He was obviously unconscious, but otherwise fine.

Doom roared at Cole, who in turn kept a steady, inexpressive face. The super-villain blasted him with various weapons, causing Cole to execute several back-flips and rolls around the small room. Cole fired a few rockets at Doom and then threw himself behind the control panel where his two companions were positioned.

"So, how are you guys doing?" he asked conversationally.

"We'll be okay," said Vitani, slightly confused by his tone. "I'd be more worried about the powerful murderer screaming at us."

"_**You cannot hide from Doom!**_" screamed said powerful murderer, as though to underline her point.

"Yeah, I _guess_," said Cole, as though unconvinced. "You've been here longer than me. What can you tell me?"

"Well, Heavy shot him with all the bullets - "

"_All_ the bullets?"

"_All_ the bullets. And he didn't react. Kind of glowed blue where they hit him."

Cole nodded. "Interesting."

"So, what are you going to do with this information?"

Cole shrugged. "Eh. I'll work something out. You stay here and make sure he doesn't swallow his tongue," he added, nodding to Heavy. With that he jumped back out of cover. Vitani glanced at the unconscious Russian nervously.

Cole faced Doom, his back hunched slightly and his hands loose. Doom, in contrast, had perfectly straight posture and his hands were clenched in fists of rage.

"**Doom** tires of this battle," stated Doom. "I will detonate this room, thereby ending your lives."

"That'd be a fairly stupid move with you still in it," Cole pointed out. "But you think your shields would protect you, don't you?"

"Of course they would," replied Doom confidently.

"Well, maybe," Cole shrugged. "But I can tell you right now that I'd probably survive as well. The best you could hope for is knocking me out. And as soon as I wake up, I'd come after you to avenge my two new friends, since they wouldn't."

"Enough! **Doom** will hear no more of your prattling! Prepare to die!"

Doom produced a detonator from his robes. Cole watched him lift it as though in slow motion, and blasted it out of Doom's hand with a precise bolt. As Doom swore, clutching his hand, Cole ran forward. Upon getting close to Doom, Cole reached his arms out and sucked electricity out of the shielding device in Doom's armour. As soon as the blue aura around Doom shorted out, Cole let loose with a barrage of his heaviest attacks.

From her hiding place, Vitani listened to a series of loud explosions. She came out from behind the control panel just in time to see Doom slam against a wall, embedding into it. A final missile of lightning connected with him before he even hit the ground.

Cole turned to her and grinned. "Like I said. Just another day."

They approached Heavy and checked him.

"He's hurt pretty badly," noted Vitani. Cole said nothing. Instead, he crackled some electricity in between his hands and applied to the Heavy's chest like a defibrillator. Heavy jolted, but remained unconscious, and Cole shrugged.

"Fools!" Cole and Vitani whirled around to see Doom standing again. He blew open a wall to reveal an alcove, housing a metallic loop. The machine flickered on and a blue haze filled its hole. "Mark my words, Cole MacGrath - _**Doom**_ _shall have his vengeance_!" Before Cole could react, Doom flew into the portal. The haze disappeared behind him.

Cole ran towards it, almost tripping over Sasha, but the portal was offline. Cole banged his fist against it in frustration.

"He's gone," said Cole, "and I dunno how to turn this thing on." By the time he had turned around to face Vitani, he was on a different bridge, with mahogany styling instead of steel. Cole blinked his eyes slowly, entertaining the possibility he had slipped deeper into insanity.

Vitani saw a raccoon and a man in red staring at her, evidently being interrupted mid-conservation. Deadpool had made himself a little desk out of a box he'd found in the lower levels. He sat at this, and Sly stood next to him. Both glanced over to Heavy Weapons Guy, who had also teleported over.

"Oh hey, your friend's hurt," Deadpool noted. "Lemme go get the doc." He scampered out of the room.

"Deadpool, what happened to taking the letters?" Sly called hopelessly after him. He sighed and turned back to their new guests. "Welcome. Before you ask, we're as lost as you are."

"I doubt that somehow," Cole said quietly, staring at Sly. He took off his backpack, inspected the sticker on it, and looked back to Sly.

"What seems to be the problem?" asked Sly somewhat apprehensively.

"You're Sly Cooper."

Sly blinked. "I am."

"You're fictional."

"...Come again?"

"This is a sticker of you," said Cole, thrusting the backpack at Sly. "My girlfriend bought it for me, because I'm a fan of you, and your _fictional_ _adventures_."

Sly gave Cole an odd look. "I don't quite know how to respond to that."

"Neither do I. Which is why I'm going to go bang my head against a wall until I pass out."

Cole strode out of the room just before Deadpool and Dr McNinja re-entered with a stretcher.

"Well, that's a little... odd," said Sly uncertainly, watching him leave.

"I'm so confused," groaned Vitani into her paws.

* * *

_**For anyone confused as to Vitani's origin, she only appears in the direct-to-video Lion King 2. Heheh, I'm so hipster in my Lion King appreciation. **_

_**No, I'm not going to apologize for using a character from a Disney sequel. **_

_**What? No, I can't give you a refund! You never gave me any money! **_

…

_**Well, what you shoved into your CD-drive is your problem, not mine. I appreciate the sentiment though. **_

_**But not as much as I'd appreciate a review!**_


	5. Day 4: Playing With Fire

Cumberland is an interesting city, and not only because Dr McNinja has his medical practice nearby. A wonderfully bizarre nature permeates the town on all levels. On the bottom, organized crime is marshalled behind the banner of King Radical, a man from another dimension whose mission statement is to make Cumberland the most radical place on Earth. On the top, beloved major Chuck Goodrich is in fact a time traveller sent back to prevent the outbreak of the zombie apocalypse – a task he completed successfully. Cumberland is by now used to fantastical occurrences.

Thus, when three people exploded into being on a central street one quiet Tuesday morning, the citizens walking by didn't pay them that much heed. Some gave quietly interested glances, but otherwise the three were left alone.

The tallest was a grown man in a military uniform. Some of his short grey hair was visible under his green cap. He scanned his surroundings with his blue eyes, at a leisurely speed which belied the fact that this wasn't the first sudden, inexplicable change of location he had experienced. Then he raised his rifle.

The reason he did this is because across from him was a teenage girl who seemed irritated with him. This wouldn't normally have given Colonel Jack O'Neill enough concern to aim his weapon, except for the fact that the girl in question was holding a fireball in one hand and had a mass of curling shadows extruding from a black ring on the other. Her clothes, specifically her trousers and jacket a similar shade of black to her hair, seemed to be made out of an unusually tough material.

The third figure which materialized was a young man in a white shirt and blue jeans. He was sitting in a hunched squat and eating a packet of toffees. He looked slowly around, examining his new companions. He murmured, "Interesting." Then he took out another toffee and continued eating.

Jack and Valkyrie stood for a few moments. Eventually, O'Neill smiled thinly at her. "Hi."

"Good morning," she returned, with no small amount of sarcasm.

"Just a shot in the dark here," he said, "but I suppose you don't know what this is either?"

Valkyrie nodded curtly.

"So not much point setting me on fire then, is there?"

"I guess not." Valkyrie let the fireball extinguish, and the shadows coiled back into her ring. "Sorry about that. I'm pretty used to responding to this type of development by kicking everyone in the vicinity in the face."

"Fair enough," shrugged O'Neill. "I usually wait for someone smarter to explain things before I start shooting. Name's Jack, by the way. Jack O'Neill."

"Good to meet you, Jack," said Valkyrie. She turned to the hunched man. "What about you?"

The man's dark eyes focused on Valkyrie while his mind cycled through his numerous aliases incalculably quickly. Ultimately, he decided that it wasn't a situation which necessitated any such pretence. Thus, he said in a monotone "L. You may call me L."

Valkyrie raised an eyebrow. "L? I'm assuming that's a taken name."

"Real names can be a dangerous thing," was his reply.

"Which is why you can call _me_ Valkyrie Cain." Valkyrie rolled her shoulders. "So. Step two. What is this?"

"We're not in Kansas any more, that's for sure," said O'Neill.

"This situation is as strange as it is baseless," said L calmly. "There's no way we can work out what's going on without gathering more information. I suggest we explore the town and see what we can find out."

O'Neill nodded. "Alright. Learning about new places is already in my job description."

"Some good old fashioned detective work?" asked Valkyrie. "Fine... Although to be perfectly honest, I'd rather skip ahead to the part where we fight someone."

The ground shook slightly with the effects of a distant explosion. A flaming dune buggy flew from the sky and slammed into the ground nearby. An elderly lady hopped smartly aside to dodge it, but that was the extent of immediate public reaction.

L pointed in the direction the explosion was heard from. "Let's go that way."

* * *

Sly found Cole on top of the tower, his feet up, staring into the sky.

"So, you can climb then," noted Sly. Cole started, and when he saw Sly, he pointed at him almost accusingly.

"Nope. You don't exist. I refuse to accept this."

Sly sat down next to him. "Well now, that's a little harsh. I obviously exist. I'm existing right in front of you."

Cole just shook his head.

"Come on!" protested Sly. "This is strange for everyone."

"I understand that this is some freaky stuff for everyone else," said Cole, "but for me, it's freaky stuff that includes Sly goddamn Cooper!"

Sly, having no immediate counter-argument, looked out into the vast, uniform desert. Cole followed his gaze.

"Okay, think of it this way," said Sly after a time. "The multiverse is a big place, right? That much is obvious. There's a friendly old guy here who breathes fire. A doctor who is also a ninja. An electric man."

"A fictional raccoon master thief."

"Exactly. What if – hear me out – where you come from just happens to have me, or someone exactly like me, as a fictional character?" Cole looked at him sceptically, and Sly continued "Yeah, it's unlikely, but possible. Just like everything else that happened."

Cole mulled this over for a while. "Still sounds shaky to me," he decided, "but it's better than nothing. I'll try not to think about it."

"Good plan."

"And..." Cole offered his hand. "It's pretty awesome to meet you. In a weird way."

Sly shook it, only slightly hesitant of being on the receiving end of a potentially fatal joke buzzer. "Always nice to please a fan."

* * *

L, Valkyrie and Jack exited a bright orange supermarket named 'Monster Mart'.

"I don't see why you spent so much money on sweets," said Valkyrie pointedly.

"I can't be sure when I'm getting home, so I have to be well-prepared," replied L calmly.

"_I_ don't see why I have to carry _your_ shopping," huffed O'Neill.

"Because you have a backpack and I don't. Please, Colonel. Use your head."

They turned a corner to see an armoured jeep speeding down the road towards them. A man dressed as a clown leaned out a window and opened fire on them with a automatic rifle. O'Neill grabbed L and pulled the detective behind a wall, firing a few shots of his own at the jeep. Valkyrie dived behind a municipal mailbox just next to the road.

From the corner he was pressed against, Jack nodded to her, and Valkyrie returned the gesture. As the jeep sped towards her position, O'Neill leaned out of cover and fired a few more rounds at the vehicle. The clown ducked back inside. When the jeep drew level with Valkyrie, she sprung out, feeling the invisible gaps in the air around her. She pushed forward one hand and a wave of air caught the undercarriage of the car, flipping it on its side and pushing it across the street.

"Gas tank," said L calmly, as though helping O'Neill solve a crossword puzzle. Jack nodded again and shot the tank, which was affixed to the bottom of the jeep. The tank ignited upon being struck, and seconds later the entire jeep exploded into a fireball. Valkyrie put her arms over her face, and her specialised jacket absorbed the impact of several small, burning elements of the car.

A flaming wheel rolled past where L and O'Neill were standing. L watched it as it fell on its side, rolled in a circle for a few moments, and then came to a stop.

Valkyrie took her arms away from her head and frowned at the fragments of turquoise wig which floated through the air, lifted by the bonfire consuming the jeep. "This place is _ridiculous_," she said.

"I agree," said L. "This town is far too entropic for my tastes. In fact, anyone planning anything would be met with obstacles at every turn. While there is some degree of organized crime, someone planning illegal activities couldn't be guaranteed safety in almost any part of town."

"What are you talking about now?" asked O'Neill exasperatedly.

Valkyrie shushed him. "He's getting his detective on," she explained, recognizing the look on L's face, "and he's probably just going to keep talking whether we listen or not."

Indeed, L was saying to himself "... southern United States. Judging on humidity alone, I would guess Maryland. That should mean that somewhere in town are relics of the Underground Railroad. Such a location would be both secluded, but well enough publicized so that even an outsider like us could have found out about them. Assuming our opponent who mentioned in the letter is intelligent, it would be a good idea to hide out of sight while formulating a more solid plan, and hope that perhaps we wander haplessly into our own dooms as they wait. Thus," concluded L, "our next course of action is to investigate any historic tunnel systems in the area."

"That's a bit of a leap, isn't it?" asked O'Neill sceptically.

"Bet you a fiver he's right though," said Valkyrie.

Jack shrugged. "Fine."

* * *

As Vitani approached the ship's med bay, she could make out a heated discussion.

"Ooh, so you're a doctor and a ninja?" came Cole's voice, mockingly. "What, so you treat patients without anyone noticing?"

"You be quiet," snapped another voice. "Look, I know from examining your friend that you have some kind of healing ability."

"I do. Zap 'em with a few a volts, they're right as rain."

"Rrrrright," said Dr McNinja uncertainly. "So, maybe you should use that."

Vitani came quietly into the room just in time to see Cole's uneasy face. "Yeah, about that. I tried it on Heavy, and it didn't seem to work as well as it should have."

"It still worked," Dr McNinja pointed out. "It stabilized him until he got here."

"But he should have been completely healed. I dunno. My powers kinda fluctuate. I guess the healing just isn't working today."

The doctor sighed. "That's too bad. Well, if it starts to come back, tell me. I'd like to have it on standby in case of an emergency."

"Sure thing, doc." Cole left the room. On his way out, he noticed Vitani, and nodded to her.

While the two men were talking, she had been taking her surroundings. The mad bay was small, roughly the size of a sitting room. It had a brighter décor than the mahogany in the rest of the ship, presumably to ease the patients' state of mind. Shelves and cabinets lined the walls. Stretcher beds occupied one corner, and it was on the nearest of these that Heavy lay, the bed bending slightly under his weight. The Russian man was still out cold, but Dr McNinja had evidently tended to his wounds. The aforementioned doctor stood in the middle of the room, holding a clipboard and watching Vitani expectantly.

"Hello," she said.

"Afternoon," he replied. "Came to check on your friend?"

"Yeah, partly." She craned her neck to look at Heavy. "Will he be okay?"

"Completely. I was hoping Mr MacGrath could help speed up the process, but he'll be up and around soon enough."

"Good, good..."

Vitani trailed off. Dr McNinja cleared his throat. "What else brought you here?"

"Oh, yeah." Vitani looked up at the doctor. "I've been looking around the place, and I've noticed that most people have set themselves up with a job."

Dr McNinja nodded. "And you wanted to see if you could help me treat the wounded."

Vitani smiled nervously. "Exactly. Do... you mind?"

Dr McNinja leaned against a counter. "Sure thing."

Vitani seemed surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

"Because... I'm a lion?"

McNinja shrugged. "You can communicate verbally, so that already makes you more patient-friendly than my previous assistant. And the kind of errands I'd need done don't require thumbs."

"That's great!" said Vitani, smiling appreciatively. "Like what?"

"First thing to do is move your friend there from one bed to the other."

Vitani glanced over to where the huge mass of flesh that is Heavy Weapons Guy weighed down the bed.

Her smile, commendably, didn't waver. "I immediately regret this decision."

"I thought you might say something like that."

* * *

L, Valkyrie and Jack stood outside a huge tunnel entrance carved into a large rocky hill.

"Pay up," said Valkyrie triumphantly.

O'Neill scowled. "I really have to keep my mouth shut."

"If you two are quite finished," said L, "I'd like to point out we have no idea what our opponent is like, or how powerful they are. At the risk of sounding like a coward, I think it would be wise for either the man with the rifle or the girl with supernatural powers to go in first."

"Don't worry about it," said O'Neill, ensuring his firearm was fully loaded. "I can see where you're coming from."

The trio entered the tunnels. The rock opened up in several places, twisting away in seemingly every direction. It was dark in the tunnels, but they were illuminated by an unearthly purple light.

"Sure is purple down here," noted Valkyrie.

"Very astute observation, Miss Cain," replied L in his deadpan.

After what seemed like an eternity of aimless wandering, Jack held up a fist, indicating they should stop.

"What is it?" asked Valkyrie.

"Look," he whispered, pointing to a bend. On one wall, the omnipresent purple light was mixed with a more natural, flickering orange. "Whoever's around that corner, they're using a good old fashioned fire."

"Well spotted, Colonel," murmured L.

Jack shrugged modestly. "You don't get far in the Air Force without sharp eyes."

"Stay on guard," warned L. "Let's go see what this Azula is like."

They crept up to the corner and peered around it. A figure was sat in a hollow, next to an coalescing ball of purple energy. As Jack had deduced, a fire burned next to her; either side, in fact. This fire illuminated red, curved armour which fit over a small, feminine frame, and a youthful face with fierce golden eyes.

"Azula is a teenage girl?" O'Neill asked bewilderedly.

"Oh wow," said Valkyrie bluntly. "That's unthinkable."

"One is strange, two is just unlikely," replied Jack defensively.

L inspected the princess, from her spiked black shoes to her equally dark ponytail. "It's hard to judge whether or not she's aware of our presence," he said.

"I'm perfectly aware of your presence, you mumbling buffoon," retorted Azula, without looking up.

L showed no reaction. "I retract my statement."

"What do we do?" hissed Valkyrie.

"I don't particularly want to shoot a teenager," said Jack.

"She's an _evil_ teenager," rebutted Valkyrie.

"Because a cryptic piece of paper told us so?" asked Jack sceptically. "You'll forgive me if I reserve judgement."

"The colonel makes a good point," said L. "We might not have the full facts of the case. Perhaps a dialogue is in order."

L and Valkyrie walked towards Azula. O'Neill stayed where he was, leaning against a wall.

"Hello," said L. "We'd like to take a few moments to discuss things with you."

"That's nice," replied Azula, standing up. "_I'd_ like to take a few moments to rip out your organs and feed them to you."

Valkyrie and L shared a look. "That clears that up, then," said Valkyrie. She went to punch Azula, but was suddenly thrown back by a lightning bolt striking her torso. She fell back some distance, landing into a roll. Azula had entered a martial arts pose and fired lightning from two fingers pressed together. She aimed again and let loose another arc of lightning, this time at Jack. He jumped behind the corner, dodging it.

"Interesting," said L, unfazed by her lightning-bending. "You didn't fire at me. The effects of a royal lifestyle, no doubt."

"Oh please," replied Azula, rolling her eyes. "As if you know anything about royalty."

"As a matter of fact, I know many things, and the intricacies of being a princess is one of them," said L, "but please, let's not get off track. The important thing is that your standing has left you with a certain worldview. Regardless of how intelligent you are, there are certain biases in your mind you may never rid yourself of. For example, you'll naturally categorize a slouched man in a crumpled shirt blathering to you in a monotone to be more of a nuisance than an actual threat -"

Valkyrie watched from the ground as L sprang forward, a white and blue blur, spinning in the air. His foot connected with Azula's face and sent her tumbling backwards.

"- which will make it all the more surprising when I kick you in the face," concluded L as he landed on his feet, his tone unchanged.

Azula looked shocked, but this was quickly replaced by fury. She unleashed a wall of blue flame at L. Valkyrie pushed at the air, shunting L to safety. She then leapt to her feet, sprinting towards Azula. Her first instinct was to let loose a salvo of fireballs, but it didn't take a genius detective to deduce that that was probably a mistake. Instead, she knocked Azula's feet from under her with a gust of wind, and then sent twisting, jagged shadows clawing at Azula's face and arms.

Azula shot a burst of fire from her palms as she fell, forcing Valkyrie to hop back. Azula then executed a spin, the end result of this was Valkyrie being tripped to the ground and Azula landing on her feet.

Jack sighed. "Okay. Guess she's pretty evil." He raised his assault rifle and took off the safety. He didn't intend on killing Azula, but he wasn't going to let _her_ know that.

Aiming well above her head, O'Neill loosed a salvo of ammunition. The claustrophobic acoustics of the cave made the shots ring even louder than they normally would have. Azula's eyes shot open, startled by the gunfire. Valkyrie smirked and pushed the air, seizing the moment. Azula was blown off her feet and fell into the purple flux behind her.

L, Valkyrie and O'Neill walked to the ledge and strained their eyes trying to spot her, but saw nothing within the purple haze.

"Is she dead?" asked O'Neill.

"I can't really make a judgement, since I have no idea what this is," said L stoically, watching the purple ball snap, crackle and pop, "but I estimate there being only a 5% likelihood of her surviving."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "So...?"

"She definitely survived," said Valkyrie pessimistically.

* * *

Azula coughed and rubbed her face. Disorientated, she sat up. The last thing she could remember was getting attacked by those three idiots, and then a disgustingly large amount of purple.

She looked up to see two huge figures towering over her menacingly. She leapt into action, quite literally, flipping on to her feet. She assumed a defensive stance and aimed two fingers at each person, lightning crackling around them.

"Don't do anything you'll regret," she threatened.

M Bison laughed. "You took the words right out of my mouth!"

Dr Doom folded his arms. "You may cease your spell, or whatever it is you are doing. You are among like-minded individuals."

"And just what do you mean by that?" asked Azula. She glanced around, keeping her attention mostly trained on the two men. The three were standing on the ground floor of a large tower, built of grey stone. It was darkly lit, but since the sun was setting it was impossible to say if this was the norm. Behind Bison and Doom there was an area with some basic furniture, and two heavy wooden doors built were into the far wall.

"What they mean," announced a third voice, "is that we are united by circumstance... and morality." Azula looked up to see Maleficent descending a large stone staircase which wound around the wall and up to a higher level quite some distance up.

"Well said!" smiled Bison. "Please allow me to make the introductions. I am M Bison, honourable warlord. This fine fellow is the esteemed Victor von Doom, master Scientist and full-time tyrant, and approaching us now is Maleficent, sorceress of untold power and, I am told, embodiment of evil itself." Bison's grin was as wide as ever. "We're a merry bunch."

"And who might you be?" queried Maleficent, gliding up to Azula.

"Azula," she said, replacing her combat stance with something more royal. "Princess of the Fire Nation."

"Bah," said Doom, "princess."

"We have all found ourselves here by various means," explained Bison. "Maleficent by eldritch portal, Doom by a device of his own design, and myself by fiddling around with a complex full of the most delightfully insane contraptions. But beyond that, our general origins in these lands, is a mystery which elude us all."

"**Doom** is constructing a second dimensional portal," said Doom, "but in such a technological wasteland, progress is slow, even for **Doom**."

"Come now," said Maleficent. "I for one am most grateful that Providence awarded us this castle. It reminds me of home. Why, it even has a dungeon!"

Azula backed slowly away from the three villains. "Well, it was fascinating meeting you. I'll be off now."

Bison laughed yet again. "Off? Where to?"

Azula didn't answer.

"Such a thought also crossed **Doom's **mind," said the doctor. "However, this tower is surrounded by desert on all sides. It is impossible to say how far it is to another structure."

"If indeed there are any," added Maleficent with a smile. "Far wiser, Princess, to stay here."

"Then I suppose that's what I'll do," said Azula, forcing herself to return the smile. She added internally, "_Until I find a way to kill all three of you quickly_."

Little did she know that this was precisely what the others were thinking. At least, that's what Maleficent and Doom were thinking. Bison was daydreaming about kidnapping the Queen of England.

* * *

_**How long can such a tenuous, absent-minded alliance last? Postulate in a review!**_


	6. Remember Remember, the Fifth of December

Grozny Grad was a secret base which developed Soviet superweapons so dangerous, not even the Soviets were aware of them. It was overlooked by a rocky cliff. The cliff gave an excellent view of the various defences of the base, such as tanks, watchtowers, anti-aircraft missiles, and constant guard patrols.

It was quite fortunate for our next three heroes that they were afforded such a commanding view of the base. That said, for Zeke Dunbar, the landing was uncomfortable.

Upon arrival, Zeke looked at the man next to him to see a tall figure in black with a smiling, porcelain face. Zeke yelped, and turned around. He was greeted by a man, taller still, in a suit of grey armour, outfitted with a variety of firearms and glowing red eyes. Zeke screamed a second time, pulled out his revolver, and yelled in a Southern accent "Just what in the hell is all this?!"

War Machine and V looked each other up and down, ignoring the excitable man with sunglasses, a blue jacket, and a quiff of black hair.

"You know what's going on?" asked War Machine, his deep voice made metallic by his armour.

"My comrade, your confusion is completely corresponding to my own," said V.

War Machine nodded. He wasn't one for wasting time, so he stated, "My name's Colonel Jim Rhodes. They call me the War Machine."

V bowed and removed his wide-brimmed hat. "An immense pleasure making your introduction, Colonel."

"My name's Zeke Dunbar," said the man in sunglasses, forcing himself to calm down. "You fellas ever hear of the Electric Man? I'm his right hand guy, as it were."

"I'm afraid I've accidentally avoided his acquaintance," said V. "As for myself, I don't think this is an occasion for the full speech, so allow me to summarize by saying that it is my very good pleasure to meet you both and you may call me V."

Zeke went to replace his revolver. His hand brushed against his pocket and he felt something alien in it. He reached in and produced a letter. "Huh. Lookee here, a letter."

He handed it to V, who read it. "This notifies us that there nests a ne'er-do-well nether..." Here V nodded to the base. "... and we must nobly end this nefarious knave known as Wesker."

War Machine nodded to himself. "Well, okay. There's just one problem with that." He pointed down to the anti-aircraft guns in the base. "I could just fly in and shoot him, except for the fact those guns would blow me to pieces."

Zeke wiped his brow and frowned down at Grozny Grad. "Hmm. Those guns would need a lotta juice. If I can find the main power supply of the base, I'd be able to switch it off no problem, and then you'd be clear."

"The complex is chillingly cautious," said V, "but I can creep in without copious difficulty, and could cater your inclination to come inside and commence creating chaos."

"Did... you just say you could help me sneak in?" queried Zeke.

V tilted his head quizzically. "That's exactly what I said."

"Sounds like a plan then," said War Machine. "You two sneak inside and take out the power. Then I'll come in and take care of Wasker."

"I'm not that happy about taking orders from someone in the military," sniffed Zeke, "but hell, I don't have much choice."

"I share your anti-authority sentiments," said V soothingly, "but in this situation they simply don't apply." They made to descend towards Grozny Grad.

"Wait, before you go," War Machine called to Zeke. "You said you're good with electronics?"

"I guess so."

War Machine removed something from his suit and handed it to Zeke. "It's a long walk down to the base. Could you maybe take a look at this for me? I think it's a problem with the wiring."

Zeke turned the device over in his hand. "Well, I dunno what I can do for ya, but I'll give it a shot."

War Machine nodded. "Thanks a lot."

"Gentlemen," coughed V. "Grozny Grad is eager to greet us."

"Great," grimaced Zeke.

* * *

"General Iroh?"

Iroh had been sitting on deck, admiring the view of the desert's undulating sand dunes. He looked up from his tea to see the young man who had arrived on the ship yesterday. He examined Iroh with his dark eyes, his hands in his pockets.

"Yes, that's me," smiled Iroh warmly. "Although I don't think I've had the pleasure to be introduced to you yet."

The man didn't return his smile. "You can call me L, general." He squatted down so that he was at the same level as Iroh. "Back home, I'm someone who solves mysteries. And we've just been thrown into a rather large one."

"That's putting it lightly."

L gazed out into the desert. "Considering our lack of specialised equipment," he murmured in his monotone, "there is a 84% probability of being unable to understand our situation, at least currently. Still, I wouldn't feel at ease with myself unless we tried."

"Sometimes an attempt is the only thing one can hope for," said Iroh.

"In my investigations of the people who have appeared thus far, others spoke highly of your wisdom," said L. "It's also clear from your movements, and that cast on your arm, that you want to help out but feel there's no role open to you. I'm offering you a role."

Iroh's gold eyes met L's black. "And that is?"

L stood. "Come to the boardroom, and we'll discuss things."

"Why can't you tell me here?"

L stared at him. "I just did," he said. "We're going to go the boardroom, and then discuss things. That's my idea."

"I know," chuckled Iroh. "I just wanted to see your reaction."

* * *

War Machine sat on the cliff, watching his team-mates progress through Grozny Grad. Relegated to the sidelines, he amused himself by fiddling with the various features of his suit. Having already established a radio connection to Zeke's walkie-talkie, he was now aimlessly adjusting the frequency to see if he could pick anything else up.

To his own surprise, a harsh and husky voice suddenly burst on to his radio. "-ust ensuring that everything is progressing as I instructed."

"Y-yes, Dr Wesker." replied a frightened voice. Rhodes' eyes widened. "We had to change the designs quite a bit in order to facilitate your requests, but we're back to work at our usual pace. The Shagohod will be ready to launch your modified missiles by tomorrow."

"Excellent. I will remain here if you should need to contact me. Get back to work. And remember, report any suspicious activity to security immediately. I don't want these prowlers interrupting my work. The world will be _saturated_."

"Um... yes sir, Doctor."

The connection cut out. War Machine nodded to himself, and began quickly dialling his radio frequency back to its starting point.

##

Two guards were patrolling Grozny Grad along the same route. One rubbed his arm pitifully through his uniform of green camouflage. His colleague rolled his eyes under his black balaclava.

"_Don't be such a baby_," he muttered in Russian.

"_It hurts_!" protested the second. "_Why did we have to get injections anyway_?"

"_Because the new boss said so_."

"_Yeah, but **why**_?"

"_Look, I-_" The first guard started. "_Shh! Hear that?_"

The two guards turned a corner to see a cardboard box sitting by itself in the middle of the courtyard. They shared a look as they approached. One kicked the box, and it swore in an American accent.

"An intruder!" is what one guard began to exclaim, but found himself unable to, due to the knife which suddenly embedded itself through the back of his neck.

Both guards fell away from V, who had executed them silently and simultaneously. Zeke stood up and discarded the box. V tilted his head at him.

"It seemed like a good idea!" snapped Zeke. V merely shook his head, turned, and began walking.

Zeke's walkie-talkie buzzed. He unstrapped it from his belt and brought it to his ear.

"Zeke here."

War Machine's voice crackled clearly on the speaker. "Zeke, I just intercepted a conversation between Wesker and a Scientist. He's in the main building and doesn't seem to be aware of our presence. If you cut the power, he'll probably come out into the courtyard."

"Ten four," replied Zeke, as he watched V gracefully slit the throat of yet another guard.

"While I have you, you made any progress on the… project?"

Zeke grinned despite the fact Rhodey couldn't see him. "_Oh_ yeah, did I ever. It's right as rain and raring to go. But I should point out I also added a timer. Just a little security."

"Good to hear. And a timer might be smart. Give it back to me when we rendezvous, and I'll use it if things get tight. Over and out."

"Talk to you later, Colonel Gunbucket."

With that Zeke replaced his walkie-talkie and ran up to where V was waiting.

"Was the caller our cliff-based companion?" inquired the anarchist.

"Sure was. Says Wesker's in the main building and'll probably come out when I work my magic on the power grid."

V mulled this over. "An immediate assassination attempt on my part would be… inadequate. Wiser perhaps to wait for the unwearied War Machine."

"Um, yeah," said Zeke. "My thoughts exactly. Hey, how much longer til the power supply?"

V pointed his knife towards a nearby building. "Therein is our target."

"Hellacious," smiled Zeke. "Time to get some wires crossed."

* * *

Heavy had left the med bay with a refreshed constitution and a spring in his step, singing the praises of Doktor Ninja and Cat. Upon discharge, he had hefted Sasha and went exploring. He was in a lower level of the ship when the sound of gunfire caught his attention.

He came into a large hangar at the front of the ship. Colonel O'Neill was standing on one side of the room, firing his pistol at targets he had set up on the other. Behind him, three small aircraft sat in disuse.

When O'Neill saw Heavy enter the room, he put the safety on his gun and nodded him inside. Heavy inspected the targets as he walked to O'Neill.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Just a little something to keep my accuracy sharp," answered O'Neill. "Besides, this is the room furthest away from the guy fixing the engines."

Heavy gave him a questioning look, and Jack explained "I just can't shake the feeling that soon the whole place will be crawling with Scientists." He spoke the last word with an emphasis which, while not hostile, wasn't especially friendly either.

Heavy nodded, but in a way that indicated he didn't really share Jack's opinion. "Can I join little shooting club?" he asked.

O'Neill looked the giant Russian man and his equally oversized firearm up and down.

"Sure, I don't see why not," he said.

* * *

V's viscous voice came smoothly on to War Machine's radio. "Colonel?"

"I read you."

"Both facility and faculty are powerless. Please proceed."

War Machine stood up and surveyed the base with his glowing red eyes. "Ready or not, here I come."

He threw himself off of the cliff. The thrusters in his palms and soles activated, sending him flying gracefully through the air. He shot towards Grozny Grad like a sentient missile. A gatling gun opened out from his shoulder, and a targeting computer activated alongside it. Swooping low to the ground, he tore through guards, machinery, vehicles and buildings alike with a seemingly limitless stream of searing lead.

The base personnel tried raising the alarm, but nothing happened. Their systems were based on the power grid Zeke had just disabled, and the backup generator was slow to activate.

War Machine wreaked massive destruction on the base. One guard bravely fired an RPG at him. War Machine dodged it briskly, and shot it out of the sky for good measure. Then, he landed next to the guard, lifted him by the throat, and threw him at a wall.

Zeke and V came out of the power plant, which War Machine had coincidentally landed beside, and surveyed the damage. "Damn, nice going!" said Zeke appreciatively, as one of the base's watchtowers collapsed with a pitiful metallic groan. "The base isn't bouncing back from that one!"

"The complex is not our concern," said V. "Rather, its commander."

As if to underline his point, the backup generator activated at this point. The alarm sprung to life, sending a shrill bell sound piercing through the air. War Machine, V and Zeke drew their various weapons as guards surrounded them.

"Why aren't they shooting?" asked Zeke.

"Isn't it obvious?" murmured War Machine. "So that he can gloat."

Wesker appeared in the doorway of a nearby building and strode toward them unhurriedly. During the time he approached them, the trio studied his appearance intently. He was wearing black clothes; specifically, black trousers, black shoes, a black shirt, and a long black leather coat. The sunlight gleamed off his thin black sunglasses as he ran a gloved hand – also black – through his short blond hair.

"Huh," said War Machine. "The guys I'm used to are usually a little less monochrome." He paused. "Half of them still look less ridiculous, though."

"V, before we all die," said Zeke, "I think it's worth mentioning your clothes are way cooler than his."

"I appreciate your praise, Zeke. In a similar sentiment, I surmise your sunglasses are superior to this sinister Scientist's."

"Now you're just showing off," murmured Rhodes.

Wesker finally arrived within speaking distance of the three. He stood calmly and with a rigid posture. "So," he said, almost conversationally. "You are the three who would seek to thwart my saturation of the world."

"Your _what_?" asked Zeke, a look of confused disgust on his face.

"You're half right," said War Machine. "Really, we want to kill you. I guess stopping your... whatever you're doing..."

"Saturation of the world."

"Yeah, that. I suppose stopping that would be a side effect, yes."

Wesker nodded. "Well, that's not going to happen. As long as this base stays standing, the entire world will soon be engulfed in my virus. And since there's some poetry in it, please allow me to give you an opening demonstration." Wesker produced a vial from a coat pocket and threw in on the ground. Zeke fearfully clapped his hand over his nose and mouth. "Relax, dullard," said Wesker. "That was merely a catalyst. The real virus -"

"Is percolating within your poor personnel," muttered V venomously.

Wesker adjusted his sunglasses. "You catch on quickly."

Their conversation was interrupted by a pained cry. One of the guards twitched violently and doubled over, as though trying to vomit. When he straightened his back again, the visible skin of his face was unnaturally grey. He reached forward with both arms, groaning, and began to shuffle towards the three.

"Holy shit!" swore Zeke. "Zombies!"

"Aaaauugh," said War Machine flatly. "He dropped his automatic weapon and is coming towards us incredibly slowly. I'm terrified." He raised an arm and fired a single machine-gun bullet between the zombie's eyes. It fell forward, dead. "Oh wait. No I'm not."

"Yeah, well, it's easy for _you_ to say that. It's not like they can bite _you_," sniffed Zeke, raising his revolver.

Every guard was turning at different rates, but soon there was a small army of zombies bearing down on the three.

"Too easy," chuckled War Machine. He prepared the two machine-guns built into his arms and sent his gatling gun unfurling out of his shoulder. He then aimed in three different directions. "I'll deal with this in a matter of -"

As he spoke, Wesker leaped toward him and slapped him in the side of the head. War Machine was thrown to the side by the force of the blow, and landed awkwardly.

He grunted. "Guess that guy is stronger than he looks. Way stronger." He raised an arm and tried firing at Wesker, but the Scientist dodged his bullets, moving at an inhuman speed.

Wesker sped towards Zeke, who was concentrating on the zombies. V suddenly blocked his path, holding a dagger forward, and Wesker was unable to stop in time, stabbing himself on the blade.

"Perhaps I am a more appropriate potential opponent?" he suggested. Wesker growled and knocked him off his feet.

War Machine threw off a zombie who was ineffectually gnawing on his armour. "Zeke!" he yelled. "Now would be a good time!" He flew up to Zeke and took back the item he'd given him before. Then Zeke covered War Machine as the soldier loaded it into his shoulder.

Wesker lifted V by the throat, then dropped him to the ground. "You think you can stop me?" he growled. "You are insects, and I am a god. I will crush you, for I am superior to you in every-" Wesker's dramatic speech was cut off by War Machine firing a projectile from his shoulder, which embedded itself in Wesker's chest. It looked like a tiny missile; or, perhaps, a huge bullet. Wesker regarded it as it fizzed ominously, and then turned his attention to War Machine.

War Machine grinned under his helmet. He had won. Now all he had to do was spout off a witty line, like Tony always did. He made it look so easy.

"Um," he said, "bye."

With that War Machine scooped up Zeke and shot into the sky, moving as fast as his thrusters could carry him.

"Was that seriously the best you could do?" asked Zeke dubiously.

"Shut up or I drop you," growled Rhodes.

Wesker watched them go passively. He tore the missile out of his chest and inspected it. It beeped at him. Wesker quickly worked out War Machine's velocity and the angle and force Wesker would have to throw the bomb were it to intercept him. Wesker aimed, stretched his arm back, and threw.

It sailed menacingly through the air – for half a second. Then a large black blur came from below and enveloped it. V landed smartly, clutching the Ex-Wife missile.

"I deny you this," said V, "and damn us both to death."

Wesker snarled at him. He whirled around, coat fluttering behind him, and started sprinting away. V caught up to him, with great effort, and grabbed his ankle. Wesker fell and his face slammed into the ground. He went to kick V in the face. V lifted the Ex-Wife so that Wesker's foot crushed it.

It detonated.

Even from the high altitude they had gained, Rhodes and Zeke felt the reverberations of the massive explosion beneath them. They watched silently as the blast engulfed the entire base. The zombified guards moaned at it piteously as it consumed them. Eventually, there was nothing left below them but a wide, empty expanse.

War Machine slowly floated down, and landed softly. Zeke disentangled himself from the soldier's grip and walked slowly to where the Ex-Wife had detonated. There wasn't a scrap of black fabric, leather or cloth, to be seen. Simply bare concrete.

"Shit," Zeke said quietly. "I... guess that's it."

"Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" asked War Machine.

Zeke shook his head. "I wish."

They stood for a few moments in the silent waste. They suddenly found themselves on the bridge of the ship. War Machine raised his two machine-gun arms defensively, while Zeke just looked around confusedly.

Deadpool had set up a desk and was doodling with a Hello Kitty pen. He glanced up. "Ah, right on time! Hi Rhodey. Lemme just make a note..."

"I am so confused right now," said Zeke. "The hell is this clown?"

"I know him," said Rhodes, "and that only makes things more confusing."

"Machine, first name, War," Deadpool was murmuring to himself. "And your name, sir? Is it Elvis? It better be, I'm calling you that."

"Zeke Dunbar," muttered Zeke.

"And your third guy is..." Deadpool looked up again. "...Invisible?"

War Machine and Zeke shared a look. "Dead," War Machine said bluntly.

"Dead?"

"Dead!" snapped Zeke. "Christ."

"It's just," Deadpool said, frowning down on the list of names he had, "no-one else died."

"No-one _else_?" asked Rhodes pointedly.

Deadpool laughed nervously. "Now, see, I have good news and bad news..."

* * *

_**Have you good news or bad news? I'll accept either, if it's sent via review!**_


	7. Day 6: Erectin' Objections!

Ba Sing Se is known for many things, but the most striking is its walls. The massive stone structures encircle the settlement, and give the settlement its name - "Impenetrable City". Ba Sing Se is famous for its ability to withstand sieges for years at a time, with invading armies completely unable to break through the thick walls. And if an entire army cannot breach the wall, one must pity a lone plumber attempting the same.

Luigi futilely attempted to jump over the wall, but even his jump, far higher than the average person's, was nowhere near adequate. His monogrammed green hat fluttered in the wind. After a few unsuccessful jumps, he straightened out his blue overalls and green shirt, and stroked his large black moustache. He was tall in comparison to his brother, but that wasn't saying much.

That said, his team-mate only barely outclassed him in terms of height. He was also wearing overalls, but the shirt underneath them was red. He adjusted his hard-hat with his right hand, which unlike his bare left was wearing a large yellow glove. He glared at the wall from under his welding goggles.

"Well, if I do say so myself," he muttered in a Texan accent, "this is one problem that's gonna require a _lot_ of gun."

While the Engineer began plotting various firearm-centric entry plans, and Luigi stood looking at the wall, the third member of their group reappeared. He was a man with black hair, which was slicked into spikes facing backwards. He wore a blue suit with a red tie, and a small gold badge was pinned to his lapel.

"So..." he said, walking up. "Still no luck then."

"Nope," responded the Engineer brusquely.

"I guess brute force just isn't working," replied Phoenix.

"Boy, can't you see we're trying to get into this place?" snapped the Engineer.

"Yes," answered Phoenix meekly. He reached into his pocket and produced three slips of paper. "Which is why I got these."

"And they are?" asked the Engineer. Behind him, Luigi stopped jumping and looked to Phoenix.

"Tickets for some kind of guided tour," explained the lawyer. "I found a gate down that way, and this was the only way I could buy access into the city. A tour guide will pick us up and lead us around for a day."

"During which, we should be able to track down this Gothel character," said the Engineer, taking his ticket. "Good thinking, son."

"Thanks," said Phoenix, handing Luigi his ticket. The three began walking back towards the gate Phoenix had mentioned.

"You know," he coughed, "those tickets sure were expensive."

Engie flashed him a grin. "Which is why I'm so very grateful you decided to foot our bill."

Phoenix glanced at Luigi, who shrugged helplessly. The lawyer let out a pained sigh.

* * *

War Machine was mapping out the interior of the ship for future reference when he heard the loud roar of heavy weaponry. Curious, he floated down a corridor and entered the hangar.

Heavy had been preparing to fire Sasha at a target, but when he noticed War Machine standing in the doorway, his expression turned from happiness to rage. **"Robot!"** he screamed, and pointed his weapon at Rhodes. Rhodes responded by aiming his two machine-guns and his shoulder mounted gatling gun at the Russian man. They stood in standoff for a few seconds before O'Neill diffused the situation.

"Easy, easy!" he yelled over the sound of Sasha's spinning. "What have you got against robots?"

"Bad times," growled Heavy. "Bombs. Bombs everywhere."

War Machine took a risk in an attempt to make peace. He flipped open his face-plate, revealing a distinctly organic face with brown eyes and dark skin. "Look, I'm not a robot. I'm just a guy in a suit."

Heavy eyed him suspiciously. "Could be _spy _robot," he spat distrustfully, but he was already lowering his gun.

Rhodes entered the room, shaking his head. He noticed what Jack was wearing. "That's an US Air Force uniform," he said incredulously.

Jack nodded. "Sure is."

Rhodes saw the eagle insignia pinned to O'Neill's epaulette. "_And_ you're a colonel."

Jack nodded again. "Sure am."

Rhodes shook his head. "Coincidences are ridiculous." He offered his hand to O'Neill. "Jim Rhodes. _I'm_ a colonel of the US Air Force."

Jack raised his eyebrows in interest and shook the armoured hand. "Now that _is_ strange. Even considering the circumstances."

"_Especially_ considering the circumstances." Rhodes looked over the aircraft taking up the other half of the room. "Any idea what those are like?"

O'Neill shook his head. "We're not going to launch those any time soon. Let's just say the view from the hangar's vehicle entrance doesn't have a lot of sky."

"Ah..."

"Probably for the best," added O'Neill. "I've seen a lot of flyers in my time, from a lot of different places, and I wouldn't rate those highly at all. Judging from the controls, they're easy to fly, but just as easy to crash."

War Machine approached a shuttle and pushed it lightly. "Hmm. Not too solid. A blow to the bottom of the fuselage could tear it apart."

"Fuselage?" asked Heavy,

"Body of the plane," explained O'Neill. "Anything lands a direct on this from below, the whole thing could go up."

War Machine chuckled. "It's times like this I'm glad I can fly by myself."

* * *

Upon entering Ba Sing Se, Phoenix, the Engineer and Luigi had been met by a black-haired woman calling herself Joo Dee. More distressingly, they had also been met by a group of soldiers wearing basic armour, green tunics, and disapproving scowls. Joo Dee had apologized lackadaisically, saying something about regulations imposed on visitors by the Earth King. Phoenix had given her a strange look, but said nothing.

Currently, they were sitting in a stone train heading into central Ba Sing Se. The train was propelled by what was known locally as Earthbending, whereby people propelled rock forward via some form of martial art. The three heroes were suitably impressed, but since fantastical things were reasonably commonplace for them, they had taken it in stride. They saw it as a very interesting transport system, but not much beyond that. In fact, Phoenix, who had the least experience which such things, was the first to stop marvelling at the train, instead deciding to reread the letter they had mysteriously received.

"Why are you a-reading that?" queried Luigi in his soft voice.

"The first page is only part of it," murmured the lawyer. "It goes into more detail on the back."

"What's that you're reading?" queried Joo Dee pleasantly, looking up from inspecting her face in a small mirror.

"A letter from my mother," lied Phoenix smoothly.

Luigi's brow furrowed. "But that's-a," he began. He then yelped because Phoenix had given him a subtle but sharp kick to the shin. "That's-a real sweet, Phoenix," said Luigi, suppressing a glare.

"Your mother does know best," Joo Dee laughed. Seemingly satisfied, she turned back to examining her face. Phoenix conveyed to Luigi via a facial expression that he wasn't willing to trust the tour guide. Luigi thought the lawyer was being paranoid, but shrugged it off.

The train reached a stop and Joo Dee ushered them off. They were on a somewhat dirty street, full of market stalls. Citizens went about their daily business, but when they saw the soldiers Phoenix noticed many tensed and tried to avoid their group.

"Here is the market district," said Joo Dee breezily. "Here, you can... buy things at the market."

"Golly," said the Engineer. "You don't say."

He strode away from the tour guide, and two soldiers broke off from the group to trail him. "Woh-ho, easy there fellas," said the Engineer, turning around and raising his arms defensively. "You really gonna follow a guy into the bathroom?" The soldiers glared at him for a few moments, but then relented, one gesturing for him to continue. The Engineer turned on his heel, smirking.

Phoenix walked up to a stall and looked at the plants on sale there, more out of boredom than interest. The shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman, leaned to the side to see past him and get a better view of the guards.

"What is this?" she asked, an obvious note of worry in her voice.

"We're tourists," said Phoenix blankly.

"Oh?" said the florist, confused. "Oh. Alright... Are you going to visit the gardens of the Middle Circle?"

Before Phoenix could respond, Joo Dee answered for him, having glided up silently behind him. "Why, of course," she said. "It would be silly not to."

They stayed in the market district for a while, but bought nothing; Phoenix had no money left and Luigi wasn't especially taken with anything there. Eventually, their tour guide gave a meaningful look to the captain of the squad, who in turn strode up to Luigi.

"Go get your friend," he growled. "We're leaving."

Luigi ducked down the same alleyway Engineer had entered and came up to the same building. "En-jah-neeeer," called Luigi through the door. "We're-a moving on. Let's-a go."

"Just give me a second!" replied the Engineer, a twinge of desperation his voice. From within the bathroom Luigi could make out a rhythmic clang of metal striking metal, as well as... beeping?

At length the Engineer appeared, seemingly satisfied. "Alrighty then," he smiled. "Let's-a go indeed." He strode off towards the rest of the group, leaving Luigi wondering fearfully what exactly it was he had been doing in there.

* * *

"I tell ya brother, I'm still a bit shaken," said Zeke, as Cole handed him a beer. He twisted it open and took a grateful gulp. They were sitting in a large communal room, but it was empty except for them. "I mean, he let himself die to protect us. It was really something."

"The old heroic sacrifice," murmured Cole.

"Heroic's definitely the right word for it." Zeke took another drink and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Makes you think, don't it?"

"It does," agreed Cole quietly.

"I mean, I can see you doing it." When Cole shook his head with a modest smile, Zeke protested "No man, I mean it! I can see you taking a bullet for your friends. Hell, I can see you taking a bullet for a total stranger."

"You can see it every day, Zeke," replied Cole stoically. "It's what I do for a living. It doesn't really count, since I heal from bullet wounds."

Zeke rubbed his eyes under his glasses. "It's a metaphor. You know what I mean. If the only way to save me, or Kuo, or somebody, was to let yourself die, you'd do it. Without a doubt, you'd do it."

Cole drank from his own beer. "Yeah. I guess I would."

"The thing is though, I'm not sure I would," said Zeke despondently. Cole went to say something, but Zeke cut him off. "You remember what I did with the Ray Sphere."

Cole's eyes narrowed. "I'm trying my best to forget."

"That's the kind of thing I'm talking about, man! What if I flake again? What if I panic and do something dumb?"

"I don't think you will," said Cole. "You're a better man now, Zeke. I trust you."

Zeke smiled weakly. "Ya do?"

Cole shook his shoulder fraternally. "Completely."

Zeke returned his grin. "Thanks, brother. That means a lot." He finished his drink.

"Look, maybe you just need something to take your mind off it," suggested Cole. "Go talk to Ratchet, see if he needs a hand rewiring the engines."

Zeke nodded. "Yeah. Maybe that's a good idea." He stood to leave. "Thanks a lot, Cole."

"No problem." Cole raised his bottle. "To V. Twice as bright..."

"Half as long," finished Zeke, clinking his empty bottle to Cole's.

* * *

The palace where the Earth King made his home, and from which Ba Sing Se was ruled, looked absolutely majestic by the light of the setting sun. That is to say, it looked fairly majestic to Phoenix, Luigi and the Engineer, but they couldn't be certain it was. After all, they were quite some distance away from it, and could barely make out its higher floors. They were in actuality standing in a public garden in the Middle Circle of Ba Sing Se.

Joo Dee's gormless smile contrasted, as ever, with the scowling faces of the soldiers around her. "I'm afraid to say your day pass into Ba Sing Se is almost at an end," she said. Her tone didn't sound especially apologetic. "Once the sun sets, you will be escorted back to the main gate. You can apply for another day pass next week."

"Dagnabbit dammit!" swore the Engineer. "We spent hours looking around this damn city, and we found neither hide nor hair'a Gothel!"

"Actually," said Phoenix, stroking his chin, "and think you're wrong there."

Luigi blinked. "You think-a you know where she is?"

"_Alright Phoenix_," the lawyer thought to himself, "_It's now or never_."

"There are certain inconsistencies I've noticed over the course of this tour – contradictions, if you will," he continued aloud, striding back and forth. "Once we take all these contradictions into consideration, everything becomes clear. There's only one explanation." The Engineer and Luigi watched Phoenix, as did the Earthbenders who surrounded them and their tour guide.

"Gothel…" said Phoenix, and suddenly he was pointing an accusing finger with power and weight, "has been _you _the whole time!"

He pointed his index finger straight into Joo Dee's face.

"What?" she said, blinking in surprise. "How did you come to that preposterous -"

"Firstly!" said Phoenix, ticking off his fingers, "For a tour guide, your knowledge of the city is abysmal. Your first instinct was to bring us to a street of no real importance. You only thought to bring us to actual tourist attractions after a shopkeeper mentioned them in your presence!"

Joo Dee's expression was part incredulity, part indignation. "Why, how dare you -"

"Secondly!" Phoenix interrupted her. "The citizens were unnerved with seeing soldiers patrolling the streets alongside visitors. If the Earth King had really put in place rules like you claimed he did, they would have accepted it without question."

The woman glared at him. "These are baseless accu-"

"And finally!" Phoenix produced the letter from his jacket pocket. "My evidence! We received this letter which informed us about Gothel. But that was only part of the writing; it actually goes into more detail further on. _Specifically_, two parts caught my eye. That Gothel would know about us like we knew about her, and could therefore prepare..." Phoenix turned his accusing finger to the soldiers. "And that she may have some locals under her command. These aren't the Earth King's men, they're Gothel's! They're _yours_!"

The woman went silent, eyeing Phoenix coldly. Luigi stared at Phoenix. The Earthbenders shared looks and cracked their knuckes. The Engineer shifted his grip on his wrench and held his breath.

Despite the various angry looks he was getting, Phoenix smiled triumphantly, putting his hands on his hips. "What have you to say for yourself?"

Gothel shrugged. "Just this." A dagger was suddenly in her hand, and she leapt at Phoenix. The lawyer's expression immediately inverted from victory to fear and he flinched.

Luigi acted quickly. He shot a green fireball at Gothel. She was mostly unharmed, but she lost her speed and Phoenix had time to back away. The entire guard gasped collectively at Luigi.

"He's a Firebender!" yelled the leader. "Get him, boys!"

"Uh oh," said Luigi softly.

As one, the guards fell on Luigi, drawing earthen projectiles from out of the ground. Phoenix ran to the Engineer for some support, to find his team-mate crouched down, hitting a metallic device with his wrench.

"That was some might fine lawyerin' you just did, son," he complimented. "Now lemme show you how an _engineer_ solves a problem. Just gimme a sec to russle this li'l darlin' up..."

"What do I do until then?" asked Phoenix hopelessly. Gothel had regained her footing and readjusted her grip of her dagger. Glaring, she approached Phoenix threateningly.

The Engineer scoffed. "What do you _think_ you do, son? Try not to get stabbed."

Luigi jumped, avoiding several stone missiles. He shot a few fireballs at his opponents below, then landed on the head of the captain of the squad. The captain collapsed, and Luigi jumped into the air again.

Gothel dived towards Phoenix, who hopped out of the way. The dagger twisted back towards him, and he yelped, ducking back.

"You should have kept your mouth shut, you know" said Gothel. "I was going to murder you quietly."

"Oh gee," said Phoenix. She lunged again, and he grabbed her by the wrists in an attempt to hold her off. "Such a shame we missed that."

"I'm ready!" called the Engineer, who had finished his construction. It was two long, opposing components supported by a base of thin metal. When it turned on, the two antagonistic bars began to spin, forming a circle. After performing a few revolutions, the device activated with a burst of red light. The bars were spinning so fast that the circle they formed seemed solid, and this circle lit up red. The machine gave off a few sparks, like the embers of a dying fire.

"Mr Wright!" yelled the Engineer. "Get her on this thing!"

Phoenix, far from being a professional fighter, pushed Gothel awkwardly towards the teleporter. She only fell back a few steps, and would have doubtlessly regained her balance had fate not been smiling on the lawyer. The Earthbenders had subdued Luigi moments before and knocked him aside. Luigi slid across the ground and came to a stop just in between Gothel and the teleporter. When Phoenix pushed the witch, she tripped over Luigi and fell over him, landing on the Engineer's building.

She went to stand up, but just as she reached her feet, she disappeared. There was no thunderous special effect which accompanied this; the only change in the machine is that the two bars started spinning at a much slower pace, as though they had to rebuild their momentum. Luigi and Phoenix stared at the Engineer, who returned their looks with a proud smile.

##

Gothel spun around, disorientated. One moment, she had been trying to stab the fool who had somehow seen through her disguise; the next, she was standing in a public bathroom on a machine identical to the one she had landed on.

"Well, this is more than a little strange," she said to herself. Behind her, she heard an alert beeping noise.

She turned to see a sentry pointed at her. Specifically, a heavy calibre tripod-mounted monstrosity, taller than she was, with dual miniguns sprouting from the sides and a component at the top which carried four offensive rockets.

Gothel said a word you should not repeat in front of your children.

##

"Got her," grinned the Engineer.

"What? How can you tell?" asked Phoenix bewilderedly.

"Trust me, son. An engineer just _knows_."

"You-a gonna engineer a way out-a this for us?" asked Luigi, his voice shaking, as the remaining Earthbenders surrounded them. One stamped his foot with a roar, and the ground swallowed up the teleporter, crushing it.

"Well, shucks," said the Engineer. "Gimme a second to think of something."

The three retreated until they stood back to back. Phoenix was about to say something when they teleported to the bridge of the ship.

"Huh," said the Engineer. "Whadda you know."

Deadpool exhaled relievedly. "Oh phew, you're all alive. I was worried you were going to yell at me again. Also, hooray, you're all alive!"

Phoenix, Luigi and the Engineer stared at the spandex-clad mercenary who was fumbling for his pen.

"Can you _lawyer_ our way out of this?" asked the Engineer.

Phoenix shook his head. "I think I'm just going to bang my head against a wall."

"That's what the electric guy said when he accused Sly of being fictional," said Deadpool brightly. "Now. Names, please."

* * *

_**Lads, what part of these review reminders do you fail to understand? I know you're here; the stats tell me. And yet the review count is so low. Rectify this!  
**_


	8. Day 7: Heart!

Stargate Command is built deep into a mountain for security purposes. There is only one entrance and exit – barring the eponymous device, of course. Three men stood outside this stone tunnel, talking animatedly. Or at least, two spoke animatedly while the third glared confusedly at them.

"This is completely incredible!" exclaimed one. He wore a jacket and fedora hat in a matching shade of tasteful brown. Under his rimless reading glasses, his eyes were alive with wonder. "I can't believe I'm talking to Aquaman!"

"Quite so!" agreed the object of his attention. He was tall and muscular, with bright blond hair arranged in a quiff and a matching goatee. His shirt was bright orange, and seemingly made of scales, and under his large golden and black belt his trousers were green. "But it's good to know that no matter where I might appear in the universe, I still have fans."

"Aren't you confused about how he knows who you are?" asked the third man dubiously in a deep voice. He was a large man with dark skin, wearing an eclectic suit of armour seemingly scrounged from the corpses of beasts and vehicles. His ears were much longer than a human's. His visible eye was green, but his right was obscured by a red lens. He carried a thin weapon more than a meter long which ended in what looked like a snake's snarling head.

"Of course not!" replied Aquaman. "Chances are he's read one of my many best-selling memoirs."

"Oh yeah, that's it," said Linkara quickly. "That's probably the explanation that requires the least, well, explanation."

Sig shook his head. "Whatever. Let's get to the task at hand."

"Ah yes!" said Aquaman enthusiastically. "It's not an adventure unless there's a nefarious villain to foil. So let's get foiling!"

"Hold on a second. The letter said we would be facing Loki. We want to be careful about him," said Linkara.

"What, did you read his memoirs too?" asked Sig.

"I read a lot of things!" said Linkara defensively. "Right, listen up. Way back, in Asgard, there were two princes, Thor and Loki. Loki was the younger, so he, unlike Thor, wasn't guaranteed the throne. As such, he grew to b-"

"Our friend asked if you had _read_ Loki's memoirs," said Aquaman, "not to relate them in full."

Linkara caught himself. "Right, sorry, too much detail. Cliff notes: Loki's the god of deception, so be on guard for anything that seems off. And be especially careful if his staff starts to glow. If his staff glows, get distance between yourself and him immediately. You got that?"

"Sure," said Sig.

Aquaman, who had been examining a butterfly, glanced back at Linkara. "Hmm? Oh, yes, of course!"

"Great." Linkara drew out a weapon that appeared to be a flintlock pistol. "Then let's go put an end to his poisonous dream."

* * *

Phoenix opened the door to the boardroom and poked his head inside. Sitting at the large table in the centre were L and Iroh, leaning over some paper. Iroh looked up and smiled at him, gesturing for him to come in. L remained reading.

Phoenix drew closer and saw the detective was examining the letters each group had received. He had arranged them in chronological order in a row. The names of each involved person were mentioned on the letters; the heroes' names appeared as the recipients, and the villain's in the scant body of the letter. Through the names of Wesker and V, L had struck a line with a pencil. Small question marks were drawn in next to Maleficent, Bison, Doom, Azula and Gothel.

"Our equipment is admittedly not up to standard," L said, "but even still I can't really garner anything from these letters. They're too perfect. The only traces of DNA on them, for example, are from where one of us has touched them."

Phoenix sat down next to Iroh. "Would you like some tea?" asked the general, gesturing to a pot sitting on the table. Both Iroh and L had cups, L's evidently quite full of sugar.

"I'm usually more of a coffee guy, but sure." Iroh poured him a cup, and Phoenix accepted it gratefully.

"Thanks very much. What are we doing?" he asked.

"I'm examining the letters each party received, but that much is of course immediately obvious," answered L, without looking up. "As I just said, there's no forensic evidence. My next move would be to try and locate any noteworthy patterns in who has thus far been involved."

"But with no other evidence, how can you identify any pattern as noteworthy?" asked Phoenix.

L looked up at him and examined him with his dark eyes.

"You're hired," he said. "Welcome aboard."

* * *

Aquaman ran boisterously through the underground corridors of the SGC, exploring the grey metal hallways. Against Linkara's urging, he had insisted on leaving the group to cover more ground.

He turned a corner to see a thin man wearing armour and green cloth. On his head was a helmet with long, curved horns, and in his hand was a staff less than a metre long, terminating in a curved spike with a glowing blue orb housed within it. Armour, helmet and staff were all the same gleaming gold, and slick jet-black hair protruded from the back of his helmet. When his emerald eyes landed on Aquaman, they widened in fear. He turned hastily and ran into a room on the corridor.

Aquaman smirked triumphantly and followed him. His fist was on a collision course with Loki's face before he had even entered the doorway. He punched the god with all his might, and Loki dissipated into mist.

"By Neptune, I didn't think I was _that_ strong," murmured Aquaman bemusedly. Suddenly, a lancing pain shot through him as a blast of energy exploded against his side. He fell through a table, shattering it. Looking up, he saw Loki smirking at him from beside the doorway.

"It's quite incredible how effective that is," he smiled. His voice was soft, sophisticated, and mockingly friendly. "Honestly, I have to wonder sometimes."

Aquaman leapt to his feet. "So you're the knave I'm up against! And as cunning as your reputation suggests. Prepare yourself for a mighty battle!"

"You remind me of my brother." Loki's smile died. "I hate my brother."

He fired again, a blue blast of power emitting from his staff's tip. He then flew across the room and began raking at the hero with the sharp end of his weapon. Aquaman took a few cuts before grabbing Loki's throat and tossing him across the room. Loki hit the wall and slid down, landing on his feet. He stretched a bit, his healing factor nullifying the little damage Aquaman had done to him.

"Impressive," complimented Loki. "You're withstanding everything I throw at you."

"Of course I am!" yelled Aquaman. "Because I have the one thing anyone needs to be a true hero!"

"Oh?" said Loki, a curious smirk on his face. "Do enlighten me."

Aquaman beamed. "_Heart_!"

"Is that so?" asked Loki, his smile widening to match Aquaman's. "Well, now, that is _very_ interesting." He raised his staff, which began to glow an unnerving, icy blue.

"_Say, Arthur, old chum_," Aquaman thought to himself, "_what did the fellow in glasses say about the staff glowing?_ _Hmm... I don't seem to recall. Whatever it was, it's probably undone by running up to him and punching him in the face. So, same plan as ever!"_

Aquaman rushed towards Loki. Loki smirked quietly and aimed for his heart.

* * *

The Engineer knocked politely on a thick steel door at the very end of the ship. He had had to navigate many dark corridors, but he had eventually found the famously defunct engine room. A voice casually bade him enter. With effort, he pushed the door open with his gloved hand.

"_Damn, that's one heavy door,_" he noted internally.

Inside were Ratchet and Zeke in a room which was simultaneously large and claustrophobic. It was certainly quite big, but the majority of space was taken up by thick machinery. In the middle of the room sat a chamber, tall enough for a grown man to stand in. Sitting inactively at the bottom of this chamber was a large rhombic diamond, longer and thicker than the Engineer's arm. A window to the side of the room gave a nice close-up view of the sand outside. A metal bar was visible on the side of the ship it displayed, but whatever it was attached to was buried in the sand.

Zeke had been telling Ratchet something about making the ship run on coal power, as far as the Engineer could tell. When he entered, they had stopped conversing and looked at him. The Engineer tipped his hard hat in greeting. "Good evening. I was just thinking I could lend y'all a hand in helping fix up this place."

"Sure thing," said Ratchet. "It's pretty easy work, but there's a lot of it to do. Mostly just replacing the parts that are burnt out."

"Alrighty then. I'll start immediately."

Zeke gave him a look. "Your accent... Texas?"

"Sure is."

Zeke grinned. "You can always tell a Texan..."

"But you can't tell him much!" finished the Engineer. He and Zeke shared a laugh.

"This should be fun," murmured Ratchet.

* * *

Sig and Linkara were in another section of the base, fighting off a brigade of army soldiers. Linkara had been unwilling to fight troops from his own homeland without good reason, but upon seeing their icy-blue eyes, indications they were under Loki's power, he had resigned himself to battling them. Sig had no such qualms. He shot anyone who shot at him.

Linkara shot the final soldier, a red burst of magical energy coming from his gun and striking his target on the chest. The soldier collapsed. Linkara and Sig nodded to each other, and Linkara took point, walking out of the room. Turning a corner, he saw Aquaman approach.

"There he is," grumbled Linkara. "I told him to never split the party! It's not a good idea." He gave Aquaman a disapproving look. "You find anything?"

In response, Aquaman punched Linkara in the jaw so hard that he flew some distance away and landed on his back.

Linkara looked up and met Aquaman's eyes, which were that same threatening shade of blue. Linkara's face hardened.

"What's wrong?" began Sig, coming out into the corridor, before Aquaman kicked him in the stomach and brought two fists crashing down on his head. Sig growled and knocked Aquaman back with a sweep of one burly arm. Aquaman stepped back a few paces, and raised his fists.

"Cognitive recalibration!" Linkara shouted from the floor. When Sig shot him back a quizzical look, Linkara clarified "We have to hit him really hard on the head!"

Sig shrugged. "If you say so." He hefted his Peacemaker like a club and swung it at Aquaman. Aquaman grabbed it and wrenched it out of his hands, throwing it behind him. He then leapt at Sig, knocking him to the floor. Once on the ground, Aquaman let loose a barrage of punches and kicks on Sig.

"I can't do it!" protested Sig as he attempted to regain ground. "Aquaman's just too strong!"

Linkara blinked. "Now that's a sentence I didn't expect to hear today."

"Just shoot him already!" barked Sig, catching one of Aquaman's fists only to be struck by the other.

Linkara pointed his magic gun at Aquaman's chest. "It's unlikely I can get through to you, but I have to try," he muttered. "Aquaman! How are you going to describe this adventure in your next memoir?"

Aquaman, choking Sig with one hand, looked up slowly at Linkara. "Loki lives," was all he said in response.

Linkara growled. "Not for long he doesn't. Not after this." He closed his eyes and squeezed the trigger.

A blast of power, larger than usual, fired from the gun and struck Aquaman squarely in the torso. He fell backwards, his body smoking lightly where he had been hit.

"Outrageous..." coughed Aquaman, crumpling to the floor. It was a fitting last word.

Linkara walked up to Aquaman stared down at him, in shock. Sig got to his feet. "You okay?"

Linkara shook his head, but not as his answer; rather, at Aquaman's death. "I'm fine. In fact, there's a chance he'll be fine too. People in this line of work... Death is lenient with them. But that doesn't change the fact he's dead now. And it's not going to change our next move."

Sig reclaimed his Peacemaker. "Revenge?"

"Oh yeah," said Linkara. "He'll be a lot less Loki when we're through with him."

##

The epicentre of Stargate Command is the room which houses the transportation device which gives the complex its name. Like the other rooms, it is large and made of grey steel. In the centre, a metal ramp leads up to the huge circular Stargate. Alien symbols and characters are etched into a moving component in the ring. When used, this component lines up symbols with large red chevrons, which then lock down on them. After seven chevrons are locked in, the Stargate connects to another Stargate somewhere in the galaxy. In essence, it's a giant telephone, transporting matter instead of sound to another device of the same make once a corresponding sequence of characters are entered.

Loki strode calmly into this room, waiting for the portal to activate. His demeanour was cool, collected, and victorious. Soon he would be moving on from this wretched little place and moving on to greener metaphorical pastures, leaving behind a few broken heroes. He hadn't expected Aquaman to survive fighting his former comrades - that would have been too fortuitous to hope for - but nonetheless he was confident that his opponents had been sufficiently slowed. He didn't think anything could dent his escalating good mood.

He was proven wrong when a bolt of magical energy exploded against the back of his helmet, making him stumble forward a step.

"You monster!" Linkara shouted despairingly from behind him. "You made me _kill __**Aquaman**_! This is the worst day ever!"

Loki turned slowly, scowling distastefully. "Be silent. Your voice sounds like a cat in agony."

"Hilarious," growled Linkara, "never heard that one before." He opened fire again. Loki flew towards Linkara, dodging the projectiles, and came to a stop just in front of him. Linkara placed his gun over his chest protectively.

"And just what do you intend to do?" he sneered into Linkara's face. "I am of Asgard, and you are a mere human."

Linkara shrugged. "That's true, but I would phrase it differently."

"Is that so?"

"You may be a god," said Linkara, "but **I AM A MAN!**" With his other hand he punched Loki heavily, directly in the stomach.

Loki took a step back, and made a face as though he was sampling a desert. "Commendably brave of you," he said. "That almost hurt."

He lifted his staff, but a massive burst of blue power exploded against him. Loki flew across the room and slammed into the thick metal wall on the other side.

Sig smirked at him from the doorway, recharging his Peacemaker. "Did _that_ hurt, cupcake?"

Loki climbed to his feet and fired at Sig, snarling. At was at this point that Linkara noticed that the Stargate was undergoing its slow activation sequence.

"Dammit, we can't let him get away," he muttered to himself. Then, to Sig, "Keep him covered! I'm going to make sure he can't escape!"

"Gotcha," grunted Sig. Loki was hammering him with energy blasts, but Sig didn't seem to notice.

Linkara ran from the Stargate's room and up a flight of stairs to the control room which overlooked the alien device and the two humanoids battling next to it.

Sig had positioned himself in front of the Stargate to block Loki's path. The Norse god stood pacing, dodging the blasts from Sig's Peacemaker. Sig grinned darkly, shrugging off several blasts from Loki's staff. "My stick's better than your stick," he taunted.

Linkara threw himself on to the computer and began typing furiously. "C'mon, c'mon, where's the emergency abort function?" His frantic typing went unrewarded, and he watched as the seventh chevron of the Stargate locked.

"_Hmm, wasn't there something that the Stargate did when it opened?_" he thought to himself. Then, his eyes widened. "Sig, dodge!" he yelled over the intercom.

Sig glanced back at the Stargate, taking his attention from Loki. The empty space in the centre of the device changed into a blue shimmering substance, like water. At the next instance, a huge ripple burst dramatically from the centre, directly at Sig. He managed to dodge to the side, and the bulge engulfed the space he had been standing in. It extended for roughly three meters before receding.

"Phew," said Linkara. "That would've cut you in half."

"If you say so," replied an unconvinced Sig. He looked back at Loki to see the prince was sprinting nervously towards the Stargate.

Sig chuckled. He was running in a straight line. Easy target. He raised his Peacemaker and fired. The projectile crackled against Loki, vaporising his form.

"Huh, that was easy," said Sig. Before Linkara could shout another warning, the real Loki descended from the ceiling and delivered a well-aimed kick to the back of Sig's head. Sig stumbled forward.

"Works every time," smiled Loki. "Adieu." With grandeur, he turned and entered the blue light. Sig reached forward and grabbed the pointier end of his staff. Loki disappeared into the Stargate, but the tip of his staff remained on their side.

"Oh, screw this!" yelled Linkara. He stood up, drew his magic gun, and fired indiscriminately at the computer consoles. After a few shots, the lights in the room dimmed and power to the facility cut off abruptly. This included the Stargate, which sparked and deactivated. The portion of the staff Sig was holding was cleanly sliced off from its rest as the connection to the handle suddenly failed to exist.

Linkara jogged into the room. "Sorry about that. I lost my temper."

"Damn bastard got away," replied Sig, distastefully tossing the sharp tip of Loki's staff to the ground. The blue orb had been on their side.

"We'll find him." Linkara went to pick up the staff fragment, knowing from experience it was always useful to hold on to the weaponry of your enemies. Before he got the chance to, however, he and Sig teleported to the ship.

They raised their respective weapons and collectively aimed them at Deadpool, who was unfazed.

"'Sup," he said.

"Deadpool," said Linkara slowly. "Now I'm talking to Deadpool."

"Yup," he said.

"Is there no-one here you don't recognize?!" thundered Sig.

"Not yet," said Linkara happily. "And yes, I've read Deadpool's... memoirs."

"It's okay," whispered Deadpool loudly. "You don't have to lie to me. I _knoooo_w."

Sig rolled his eye. "Whatever. I need a drink." He stalked out of the room.

Linkara beamed at Deadpool. "I wonder if autographs will carry back with me to my own dimension..."

* * *

_**Reviews carry through all dimensions, just so you know...**_


	9. Day 8: First Law means Nothing

Haven City is more hospitable than its surroundings, but that's not saying much. The citizens wander the dirty streets, trying not to incur the wrath of the Krimzon Guard, the red-armoured police force whose fierceness is matched only by their inability to spell. The ruler of Haven City resides in a huge palace in the centre and co-ordinates their forces from there. However, the majority of the city is slums and shanty-towns.

In one of the smaller slums that three people appeared into being. Had anyone been looking their way at the time, they would have fled. Denizens of Haven knew better than to remain near a fight, and a fight seemed certain.

One of the people wore a futuristic suit of armour. It was comprised of a smooth titanium alloy plated over a thick black bodysuit. The metal was jet black in colour, and the wide facial visor of her helmet was made from dull golden glass. On her hip was a silver pistol, which she quickly drew. She pointed it at the one-foot-tall robot who blinked up at her with large green eyes. Evidently deciding he wasn't much of a threat, she instead levelled it at the orange angular droid who was pointing his own firearm at her. The droid's red eyes focused on her as his head clicked rhythmically from side to side.

"Query: What is going on?" queried the droid.

"That would be an excellent question," said the small robot in a sophisticated voice, "one which I myself am currently pondering."

"That makes three of us," said the soldier. "Are you going to lower your weapon, or am I going to have to _dismantle_ you?"

"Reply: This unit will not lower his weapon until you are no longer a threat," hissed the droid.

"So, 'I will when you will'?"

"Precisely."

The soldier paused a few moments. "Fine," she said eventually, "but only because I don't need a gun to break you in two."

The two of them took on slightly friendlier stances as the small robot finished scanning the area.

"I'm afraid my sensors are of no help," he said sadly. "Perhaps introductions are in order. My serial number is XJ-0461, but I'm more commonly known as Clank."

"Statement: I am the assassination droid HK-47," stated the orange robot.

"Tex," grunted the black-suited soldier bluntly.

"A pleasure to meet you both," said Clank politely. "Now, perhaps it would be wise to begin exploring our surroundings. It may give us some insight as to why we are here."

"You seem pretty calm about all of this," remarked Tex.

Clank smiled thinly. "This is approximately the third time time I've been involved in this kind of situation. If not more."

"Statement: It appears some ominous meatbags are approaching us," stated HK-47. "Be on guard."

He was referring to the contingent of Krimzon Guards who were approaching them, weapons raised.

"And just what have we here?" demanded the one on point, presumably the leader. "Lower your weapons. You're all under arrest."

Clank put up his arms, but almost experimentally, as though he wasn't certain what would happen. Tex and HK-47 made no such moves.

"I repeat," snapped the Guard, "lower your weapons, or -"

HK-47 raised his blaster and shot the Guard in the face. He collapsed, screaming, and exploded into purple dust. The rest of the Guards sprung into action, but Tex was faster. She grabbed the blaster of the nearest one and elbowed him in the throat. He released the gun, choking, and Tex threw it at another Guard. The stock struck him in between the legs, and it fired into his face, killing him. Tex punched the first Guard in the face hard enough to send him falling backwards. She grabbed his ankle as it rose into the air, spun him, and threw him into two other Guards. There were now two Guards remaining, standing in two different directions from Tex. Tex rolled towards one and slid under his legs. While he tried to turn around to face her, HK-47 shot the other in the head. The final Krimzon Guard aimed his blaster at Tex, but was distracted by a tapping on his boot. He glanced down to see Clank waving up to him. The Guard tilted his head at the little robot, and was about to punt him away when Tex flipped to her feet, ran at him, and punched the Guard so hard in the face he flipped upside down.

Tex, HK-47 and Clank stood amid a field of Krimzon Guards who were either groaning in pain, unconscious, or outright dead.

"That's five to me," counted Tex, "two to you, and an assist to Clank."

"Reply: Believe me, my score will be much higher in a few moments," rebutted HK-47, seeing more Guards approach.

Clank sighed. This was going to make exploration a lot harder.

* * *

Sly bumped into Linkara in one of the corridors of the ship; quite literally, in fact. Linkara had been looking at a piece of paper in his hand, not at where he was going.

"Oh, sorry!" said Linkara upon collision. "I was a little distracted."

"It's quite alright. What is that?" Linkara grinned and showed Sly the paper. Three signatures; a scrawled, childish script, complete with illustration, a formal legal font, and a brisk military signature. "Isn't it great when someone takes a moment to indulge a fan?" remarked Linkara.

_**[a/n – It most certainly is!]**_

"I think they find it flattering that they're famous in other universes," he added.

"I certainly do," smiled Sly. "Although I'm also a little annoyed that I'm not profiting off the merchandise being sold in my image, just because it's in another dimension."

"Now _that's_ a question for an economist..." Linkara and Sly began walking together. "Are they still trying to work out why we're here? Up in the boardroom?" asked Linkara.

"Yeah, they are."

"Personally," said Linkara, "I think it's kind of a waste of time at this point."

Sly motioned for him to clarify. "Look at it this way," Linkara continued. "Someone, or something, has this planned, as evidenced from the letters with our names on them. That and the whole teleportation thing. But beyond that, we can't make any solid conclusions, especially since we don't have any advanced sensors or scanners and the like. We'll find out when we find out. But based on what we have now, I doubt they'll make any progress."

"Are you saying that they should give up?"

"I guess I am," said Linkara, "if only so that they stop wasting valuable time of what is an admittedly bizarre but freaking awesome opportunity to talk to some amazing people."

"I suppose there are some things you can't plan for," said Sly.

"Like your enemies turning into pure energy."

Sly tilted his head. "Excuse me?"

"I knew a guy once," Linkara explained. "Tried invading my universe, beat me to a pulp, you know, standard fare. I eventually managed to deal with him, but I didn't want to kill him. For one thing, I just don't do that, and for another, he had kinda noble intentions."

Sly sighed. "The guys I face never have noble intentions... Anyway, you were saying?"

"I exiled him on some frigid waste, thinking that was it. But – spoiler alert – it turned out that he could turn into pure energy and he eventually found his way back to me, having downloaded himself into a robotic body."

"That's... interesting," said Sly uncertainly.

"Look, all I'm saying is that while it's perfectly logical to want to know what's going on, I doubt we can draw a conclusion from our current data," said Linkara. "So let's just put our feet up and enjoy the twists as they come."

"You make a good point," smiled Sly.

Linkara returned it. "It's what I do."

* * *

A thick red tank with no roof, hovering quite a distance above the ground, sped dangerously through the streets of Haven City. Clank stood in the driver's seat, barely able to see over the dashboard. HK-47 sat in the passenger seat next to him, leaning his blaster on the tank's door.

"Left! Left!" he directed. Clank dutifully swerved left. There was a thump.

"What was that?" queried Clank.

"Answer: An overweight pedestrian," answered HK-47. "He jiggled most amusingly upon collision."

Clank shook his head. "I really must stop listening to your directions."

An impact shook the vehicle. The two looked back to see two more Krimzon Guard tanks, known as Hellcats, closing in on them. They were both piloted by a single Krimzon Guard. The large frontal cannons on both sparked an ominous red, one having already landed a hit.

HK-47 prepared to turn his blaster. Tex stood up from the gunner's seat at the rear of the Hellcat.

"Hold on," she said. "I got this."

She steadied herself, and then took a running jump off their tank. She flew towards the right Hellcat, catching its front upon landing. The Guard scowled down at her, deciding to ram her into a wall. He approached a pillar and accelerated. Just before impact, Tex flipped on to the Hellcat, ran its length, and threw herself off the back. She turned in midair and fired a few pistol rounds into the Guard, killing him. Then, seemingly by accident, she landed neatly in the gunner's seat of the second enemy Hellcat.

"Hi," she said to the Guard, before grabbing the back of his head, slamming his face repeatedly into the dashboard, and tossing him out of the vehicle with one hand. She took his position and floored the acceleration, catching up to Clank and HK-47. She leaped back on to their Hellcat and settled comfortably back into the gunner's seat as the other Hellcat slammed into a wall and exploded. "367 to 344," she announced. "Shout if you need me again."

HK-47 muttered something and fired at someone.

"Remember, civilians don't count," Tex said pointedly.

"Statement: I _am_ aware," said HK-47, firing again.

"Can we focus on the task at hand?" asked Clank. "We didn't even know about this GLaDOS person until recently, because you two were too busy with your murdering spree."

"Gimme a break, I didn't notice the letter. I look like an avid reader to you?" replied Tex.

"Postulation: I would surmise that anyone in a position of power would reside in the large palace at the centre of this city," postulated HK-47.

"What logic indicates to you that GLaDOS is in a position of power?" asked Clank.

"Answer: None," answered HK-47. "However, if they aren't in the palace, we can interrogate those within until they aid us in finding them. I do so love a good interrogation."

"Makes sense to me," said Tex, hands behind her head as she looked up at the night sky. "It'd be easier to look for them from the middle of town, at least."

"Very well," said Clank, swerving to avoid a Krimzon Guard on a hovering motorcycle. "To the palace."

##

Entering the palace had proved easier than Clank had feared. The main doors were certainly thick, but Tex was confident that slamming enough hovercars into them would eventually cause them to cave in. Her theory was never proven, as after the tenth vehicle exploded against the doors, a group of irate Krimzon Guards had thrown the doors open and flooded out. The three had fought their way inside and were currently taking a breather in one of the less used rooms.

Tex and HK-47 checked their respective weapons while Clank examined a computer terminal.

"Current score is 505 to me," said Tex, "503 to you. I'm winning."

Two Krimzon Guards burst into the room. HK-47 shot one, the energy bullet he fired piercing through the Guard and killing his compatriot as well.

"Correction: Our scores are even," corrected HK-47 smugly.

Clank hopped back, startled, when the display he was looking at changed abruptly to a view of their opponent, GLaDOS. One large, robotic eye, yellow in colour, stared down at the camera. Clank couldn't make out the rest of her structure.

"Hello and welcome to Haven City Bureaucratic and Security Managerial Centre," she greeted in a mechanical monotone. "I am GLaDOS. You are on file as committing 1,010 counts of grevious assault against Krimzon Guard personnel, 57 counts of grand theft auto, 39 counts of theft of weaponry from Krimzon Guard Personnel, 45 counts of damage to city property, and one count of aiding an assault on a member of Krimzon Guard personnel." She paused for a moment. "You are horrible, horrible people."

"I wouldn't describe myself as horrible," said Tex. "I just get paid to do horrible things."

"But Agent Texas, no-one is currently paying you," Clank pointed out.

Tex considered this. "Yeah, that's true," she admitted. "These guys are just dicks. This right here is community service."

"Statement: Your meatbag justifications of morality never fail to amuse me," stated HK-47.

"The Haven City Council of Justice and Civil Protection has decided on your sentence: execution," said GLaDOS. "If you ask me, that's too good for you, but sadly I'm not the one giving out the sentences. Yet. Please assume a docile position and await your imminent arrest. Leniency will be awarded to the first criminal to betray their partners." The computer terminal deactivated.

"I traced the signal from that transmission," said Clank. "It came from a room near the centre of this palace."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's go."

"Statement: Just a moment. I have something which may be useful." HK-47 produced a small piece of technology, not dissimilar to a USB stick.

"What's that?" queried Tex.

"Explanation: This is a device known as an ice-breaker," explained HK-47. "It completely overwrites digital code. Since our opponent has revealed herself to be mechanised, I believe this is the most efficient way of dispatching her. I surmise it would quickly destroy the software of a digital mind."

"Smart thinking," said Tex, taking the ice-breaker from him. "Now can we go?"

"Just one question," said Clank warily. "Why did you have that on your person, HK-47?"

"Answer: Uh... no reason, my trusted fellow droid. No reason whatsoever."

Upon coming up to the room, Clank had retreated into an air vent, explaining that he had a backup plan should the ice-breaker fail. HK-47 scoffed at the idea _his_ strategy wouldn't work, but nonetheless supported the concept of multiple plans and accepted that Clank would offer little in a fully physical battle. Thus, he and Tex had entered GLaDOS' chamber alone.

In the flesh, if that phrase was applicable, she was even larger than she had seemed on screen. GLaDOS loomed over them, her oddly shaped computer body swinging slightly. Wires criss-crossed out of her and into the ceiling above. Her frame was comprised of shining grey metal, smoothly arranged in curves. Four spherical cores were attached to her, but they seemed inactive, judging from how their central light was offline. One yellow light at the fore of the body glared accusingly down at them from above.

"I'm adding disturbing a city official to your record," she said disapprovingly. "I really don't understand how you can be so shameless."

Tex loaded her pistol. "Giant supercomputers are worth 500. Last shot gets all points."

"Agreement: Very well."

Tex and HK-47 both unloaded a salvo of gunfire onto GLaDOS. The bullets embedded in her frame, and the lasers bounced off. The only reaction she exhibited was a slight change in her perpetual slight swinging.

"Was that really your entire plan? If there was a crime for being stupid, you would now also be guilty of that as well. Regrettably, there isn't," said GLaDOS in her usual monotone. "Oh, who am I kidding? I make the rules. I can draw one up for you. Give me a moment."

"Suggestion: Whenever you're ready," murmured HK-47.

Tex cracked her neck and clipped her pistol to her hip. She ran across the room to the far corner. She jumped between the two touching walls, ascending with difficulty. Upon gaining enough altitude, she kicked off from the corner into a backflip. She spun through the air and caught one of the wires attaching the ceiling's circuitry to GLaDOS, and she slid down this onto her opponent's body.

Tex stared at the various buttons and openings along GLaDOS' frame, searching for a place to plug in the ice-breaker. She froze up.

HK-47 glared up at her. "Order: Plug it in, meatbag!" he yelled impatiently.

Tex swore. "I'm working on it!" she shot back. "I just... it..."

A spike curved down from the ceiling behind Tex.

"Here, let me help you," said GLaDOS. "In order to use a device like that, you should insert it approximately here."

"Son of a bi-!" swore Tex.

The spike sprang forward sharply and impaled Tex through the back of the head. It shattered the glass of her helmet, revealing that there was no flesh inside. Instead, the wound sent out sparks as Tex's body went limp. Her hands splayed in shock, dropping the ice-breaker.

"Exclamation: Gasp!" exclaimed HK. "She was non-organic the whole time. I cannot help but feel somewhat guilty. I would have insulted her less had I known this." He thought for a moment. "Clarification: DMarginally less," he clarified.

GLaDOS let Tex slide forward off the spike and fall to the ground below. Her armour broke slightly on impact, but it had fared better than the ice-breaker, which had shattered completely on landing.

"Now then," said GLaDOS briskly, as the light on one of her cores flickered. "One down, two to go."

"Statement: Uh, we can discuss this," stated HK. "I'm sure you and I could reach an accord. You certainly share my view on organics."

"Not necessarily," replied GLaDOS. "I kill humans when they get in the way of _testing_. You seem to take joy out of it."

If he had had a mouth, HK-47 would have been smiling. "Guilty as charged."

"Whereas I reserve such enthusiasm only for Science. Tell me, where do you stand in terms to testing?"

HK-47 processed the question. "Answer: I have already perfected the use of all weapons I would care to use. Hence, experimentation is useless to me, as it can only fall outside of my field of expertise."

"In that case, we have nothing further to discuss," said GLaDOS, leaning the spike towards HK. "Enjoy Android Hell."

HK shot at it while backing away, but the spike didn't relent.

Just then, the lights flickered. Then, every electric fixture of the room failed, including GLaDOS. She groaned deeply as she deactivated, and then hung limply from the ceiling. Her cores likewise turned off.

HK-47 turned to see Clank crawl out of another air-vent.

"Query: And just where have you been?" queried HK-47.

"I decided that outright confrontation was not the best option," explained Clank, "so I found the power source for this facility, and disabled it."

"Statement: A wise, if boring, move. However, it is unlikely to stop our opponent for long."

"Agreed. Doubtlessly, she has a contingency plan for this occasion. However, it should give us some time to plan."

Without any motion detected by either of their sensors, the two robots found themselves in the bridge of a ship.

"Or... that could happen," said Clank uncertainly.

"Cool, robots!" said Deadpool, glancing up from his desk. "Identification numbers please."

HK-47 pointed his gun at Deadpool. "Demand: Explain what is going on, meatbag."

Deadpool raised his hands defensively. "Hey! First Law, First Law! And I'll have you know I work out daily, thank you."

"Pardon my companion, sir," smiled Clank. "He is quick with a blaster. Not unlike a friend of mine, actually, only more homicidal."

Deadpool examined the small robot for a few seconds. "Would that make you Clank?"

Clank blinked. "Yes, it would."

Deadpool leaned back and pressed a button on a console behind him, and then spoke into an intercom. "Ratchet to bridge," he called. "We've found the droid you're looking for."

* * *

_**More Star Wars quotes? Check. More reviews? Pending.**_


	10. Day 9: Injustice Deliciously Squared

The Goa'uld are known for two things; wealth, and power. Their ostentatious motherships, with state of the art technology and golden décor, nicely demonstrate this. One such ship was suffering an unusual case of infestation. They had come together, and since split up. On one level, a snake slithered undetected through the corridors, poisoning the guards of the ship with tranquillizing venom. On another, a spider descended from the ceilings to beat Jaffa into submission in a flurry of limbs. And on a third, an internet reviewer waved around a huge, impractical gunblade, breaking not only bones, but also this metaphor.

"Goddamn it," swore Spoony to himself. "I really need to find something better to use." He pulled a small, serpentine weapon from the chainmail worn by one Jaffa. He fired it at one of the still conscious humanoid aliens. Blue electricity exited the serpent's mouth, and his target fell unconscious. Spoony shot the same one experimentally, and he died.

"That's more like it!" Spoony considered also stealing some armour, since all he had to protect himself was a sassy t-shirt. He decided against it, knowing that stripping the clothes off a dead body would be much more of a hassle than RPGs made it look. He stood up and turned on his radio. "How we doing?"

"Pretty good, Spoony One!" said Spiderman into his. "I didn't think I'd be so good at stealth in such a magnificent shade of bright red, but I'm doing pretty well!"

"What you wear on the battlefield is no laughing matter," growled Snake into his Codec, selecting a grenade from one of the pouches on his person. His mouth was drawn tightly under his rough stubble.

"Says the man wearing an eyepatch for no apparent reason," retorted Spiderman.

Spoony pushed some of his long brown hair out of his face. "Focus, people! We have to find this Scar guy."

"Right, right. I'm heading towards the bridge of this ship now..." said Spiderman. "You think it's the same Scar from the Lion King?"

Spoony rolled his eyes. "Don't be fucking stupid. We're on a spaceship. How is a lion without thumbs supposed to operate advanced controls?"

"Hey, it could be," said Spiderman defensively. "What do you think, Snake?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," responded Snake coolly, tranquillizing another Jaffa with his dart gun.

Spiderman gaped at his radio through his mask. "You've never seen the Lion King?!"

"I don't watch movies."

"Wow, dude, how old are you? No, don't answer that. No age is an excuse."

"Spiderman, you're on an alien spaceship fighting alongside two people from different dimensions," Spoony pointed out. "Can we move past Snake not watching the Lion King?"

"Yeah, but this kinda thing happens to me all the time. But never watching the Lion King? That's inconceivable!"

"You keep using that word," said Snake. "I do not think it means what you think it means."

"And you said you don't watch movies..."

##

In the bridge of the mothership, a gaunt, melanistic lion looked down at the control panel in front of him. It was comprised of white, oval crystals on a black board. He moved a paw tentatively forward and pushed one crystal into a space marked for it.

Behind the black-maned lion, a series of thick rings descended from the ceiling. They lit the space inside them with bright white light, and then re-entered the ceiling as quickly as they had come.

"And you say I can configure these to move objects anywhere above or below that space?" he asked of the Jaffa standing beside his large chair. His voice was deep, smooth, and dripping with malice.

"Yes, my lord."

Scar's deep green eyes sparkled with interest. He raised a thin black eyebrow, stretching the thin pink wound which had given him his moniker. "Fascinating. You'll forgive me if I'm a slow learner. The most advanced piece of weaponry in my homeland is a stick."

"Nonsense, my lord. You are most adept at this," said the Jaffa, partly because Scar was indeed proving a quick study, but mostly because constant praise is required of Jaffa.

"How nice to have minions who see me for the wonder I am," sighed Scar contentedly, who was completely unaware of this fact.

* * *

Clank had proved popular among Ratchet's new colleagues. Zeke was amazed that such a small robot could be so effective and intelligent, and the Engineer had been charmed by Clank's polite nature.

"So, you going to give us a hand down here?" asked Ratchet.

"As a matter of fact, I had a different idea," said Clank. "Your progress on these systems has been most admirable, but without a Scientific liaison working on the bridge..."

"It'd be a lot slower getting the whole ship back online," finished Ratchet. "So you're thinking of being that guy."

"Precisely." Clank looked concerned. "Do you mind?"

"Well, I admit I'd like to have you a little closer," said Ratchet, "but it should be fine."

"It's not that big a deal," added Zeke. "I still see Cole plenty, even though I spend a lot of time down here."

"Exactly," nodded Ratchet. "And besides," he grinned to Clank, "when things eventually start exploding – and they will – I'll meet up with you."

Clank returned his smile. "I'll hold you to that."

* * *

Spiderman entered the spaceship's bridge, the door closing tightly behind him. His Spider-sense was tingling like a wind chime in a hurricane, so he exercised extreme caution.

Inside were four or so Jaffa, who all had their staff weapons pointed at the wall-crawler. However, none dared to actually attack, knowing how a fight was likely to end, so pointing was all they did. Seeing this, Spiderman relaxed somewhat, putting their measly weapons down as being the source of his anxiety.

Then again, the source was just as likely to be the figure sitting in the large chair at the centre of the room. He was faced away from Spiderman, and partially obscured by the back of the chair, but the occupant was unmistakeably leonine.

Spiderman's eyes widened under his mask. "So you _are_ Lion KingScar?" He cracked his knuckles. "In that case, I hereby dedicate this beating to every moviegoer you've ever made cry… and I don't mind admitting that that includes me."

Scar didn't understand what Spiderman was saying, and elected to ignore it. However, the part about the beating was undeniably clear. He was quickly catching on to the controls of the ship, but he knew he needed more time. Knowing he couldn't face the superhero in a physical fight, Scar fell back on his strength; manipulation.

"Well, I'd hardly imagine it was the first time you cried," he replied smoothly. He didn't turn to face Spiderman, but could see his opponent from the corner of his eye. "I mean, you strike me as a man who has gone through a lot of loss."

This was a gamble. Any TV physic will tell you that everyone has lost at least one loved one at some point, but Scar half expected Spiderman to brush the words aside and charge at him anyway. However, the slight tenseness he saw in Spiderman, and the pause before his reply, indicated to Scar that he was on to something.

"Hah! This isn't going to work, buddy," scoffed Spiderman, just a second too late for it to be genuine. "I've been dealing with guys like you my whole career, and they all try to psychoanalyse me to get an upper hand."

"And have you never questioned why that is?" asked Scar. In the field of manipulation, it was always best to work with what the subject gave you. "Why every intelligent opponent you face notes this distinct trait about you? Perhaps it's because you're painfully easy to read."

"Yeah, I'm easy to read," countered Spiderman. "Otherwise sales would go down."

"And there you go again with what I can only _assume_ is another joke," Scar shot back. "It's clear to anyone that you only use humour because you're too afraid to face life's harsh truths."

Spiderman yawned dramatically. "Yeah? Like what? Every time I hear the 'life's harsh truths' bit they always give slightly different examples."

"Then I'll be happy to provide my own. Let's see… harsh truths. The fact that life's not fair. The fact that some people are born without luck. The fact you can spend your whole life striving for something, shoving aside all else to get to it, only for it to crumble as soon as you touch it... Oh, and the old classic - the fact that during the course of this conversation, I've worked out how to send you careening into the vacuum of space with a push of a button."

Before Spiderman could finish the sentence "Okay, that last one's new," the transporter rings descended from the ceiling and surrounded him. Cursing himself for ignoring his Spider-sense, Spiderman reacted with just enough time to shoot a well-aimed ball of webbing at the door release button before the rings energised and whisked him away.

The head Jaffa bowed to Scar. "Most well played, my lord."

"Yes," responded Scar smugly, "I'm quite proud of how that went."

"My lord!" called another Jaffa agitatedly from the door. "The spider has broken the door release function!"

"What?" snapped the lion, his convivial mood fading quickly.

"It's opened, and it will not close! His projectile has ruined the circuitry!"

Scar growled furiously to himself. While he had succeeded in thwarting Spiderman, the hero's reaction times had still been too fast for him.

"In that case, this position is now untenable," he snarled. "Send some idiots up here to act as fodder. We're going to hide som- we're going to _position ourselves_ somewhere else. Don't stand there dawdling, go!"

"But sir!" protested another Jaffa.

Scar rolled his eyes agitatedly. "Now what?"

"The Chappa'ai has been activa-"

"Whatever it is," growled Scar, already standing in doorway, "deal with it as quickly and brutally as possible." With that he ran into the corridor, the other Jaffa matching his pace.

The Jaffa at the control panel, who had always had anger management issues, shrugged and rigged the entire level the Stargate was on to explode.

##

Snake fired another tranquillizing round and watched his last opponent's face go from angry confusion to perplexed tiredness. He collapsed next to his colleagues, forming a small pile of sleeping armoured aliens.

Snake crept out from the shadows and checked they were all unconscious. He then moved silently to the end of the corridor. His quiet movements made it easy for him to hear that someone was hurrying towards him.

Snake pressed himself against a wall, checking his ammunition supplies. A procession rounded the corner and moved past him without seeing him. Scar led a four Jaffa through the ship, scowling agitatedly. When they had passed him, Snake slid to the centre of the corridor and aimed his gun.

Scar came to a stop at the end of the hallway and scowled harder.

"What is it, my lord?" queried a Jaffa.

"I... don't actually know where I'm going."

"Oh." The Jaffa shared glances. "Would you like suggestions?"

"Whatever," muttered the lion, who hadn't even turned around.

"Down that corridor are the gliders. We can use those to travel outside, and from there we can..."

"Can what?" snapped Scar irritably. He turned in time to see the Jaffa he was talking to crumple, landing on the other three sleeping Jaffa. Scar looked up to see Snake point his tranquillizer at him.

Scar smiled nervously. "...Hello there."

Snake advanced slowly, gun trained on Scar's face. He didn't reply.

"Now, let's not do anything rash," said Scar. "I'm sure we can discuss this."

At that moment, the ship was rocked with an explosion. Snake's aim was put off and Scar seized the opportunity, bolting down the nearest corridor. Snake shot at him, but missed. He broke into a sprint catch up with him. Scar was fleeing faster than Snake could run – the benefit of being quadrupedal. Snake considered shooting him, but he couldn't be sure the dosage was enough for a lion; even a scrawny lion like Scar. So instead, he unclipped a grenade from his belt and flung it over Scar.

Spoony jumped out from behind a corner, Zat held high. He cried triumphantly upon seeing Scar scrape to a stop before him. His victory was short-lived, as he arrived just in time to have Snake's flash-bang smack against his forehead and clatter to the floor. Spoony and Scar regarded the device for a split second, before Spoony accusingly roared at Snake "YOU FOOL-"

##

* * *

##

##

##

* * *

"...heightened animal senses, it's possible he's feeling the effects worse than we are." Snake's voice slowly became apparent to Scar, although his vision remained purely white.

"Whatever." Spoony sounded tired. "I don't even care. I'm so tempted to shoot you right now."

"I don't think you'd get fa- ...? Look. He's waking up."

Scar, who had been trying to sit up, went unconvincingly limp and tried not to breathe.

"So this is the part where we defeat him, I guess. But first..." Spoony grabbed Scar by the shoulders and shook him violently. "Yo Fratricide. Where's Spidey?"

Scar coughed something almost inaudible.

"So we can hear you!"

"Space..." Scar repeated.

"Space?!" parroted Snake.

"You ejected him from the ship?!" screamed Spoony.

"Yesssss," Scar grinned weakly, "and I'll so to that you too!" He tried to claw at Spoony's face, but only succeeded in falling over. "My head hurts," he whined.

Spoony let go of him and went to a nearby keypad. Keeping his weapon trained on Scar, Snake queried "What are you doing?"

"Working out the teleporty ring controls."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Spoony's face was contorted with rage. "I liked Spiderman. So I'm going to give this furball a taste of his own medicine."

Scar blinked through the lethargy fogging his mind just long enough to work out the meaning of Spoony's words. "No, wait, you can't mean-!"

"I do."

"No!" protested Scar. "We can talk about-"

"Shut up," said Spoony matter-of-factly. "If there's one thing I can't stand, it's betrayal. So shut up."

"-" began Scar, but at that moment, the rings appeared and burst his form into whiteness. They retracted back into the ceiling. He was gone.

"Well, that's it then," said Snake.

"Hmm," said Spoony. "Probably should have beat him up a little before killing him. Broken his legs, maybe."

Snake gave him a look of puzzlement, which was quickly replaced by shock as they appeared on the other ship. Snake ducked into a crouch and aimed his tranquillizer at Deadpool, who waved at him cheerfully. Linkara, who had been speaking animatedly with the mercenary, smiled in surprise at seeing his friend.

"Hey Spoony! Good to see you," said Linkara happily. "I can explain. Actually, no, I can't. But I can fill you in a little."

"Hi Linkara," replied Spoony, walking up to him. "How was your day? Because my day was pretty interesting. I jettisoned Scar into the vacuum of space."

Linkara looked at him. "Now, when you say Scar..."

"Yeah, _that_ Scar. Son-of-a-bitch-that-killed-Mufasa Scar."

Linkara blinked slowly. "Huh. That's… Okay then."

Spoony shook his head. "I know. Don't worry though, we gave him what he deserved. There's no way he's bouncing back from that one."

* * *

Scar coughed. He coughed again, and again, until his coughing reached a crescendo of throat-raking hacking, before slowly dying back down into a tired wheeze. Finally, he sucked in a mouthful of air.

Air. That was probably a good sign. Space didn't have air. Ergo, he was no longer in space.

The question was, where was he?

Scar's brain slowly warmed itself up, as though thawing from the freezing nothingness the lion had just experienced. It slowly told him that he was lying on his side on a hard floor somewhere, gravity once again pulling gently down on him as it should do. Darkness engulfed him, so either his eyes were closed, or he was blind.

Scar forced his eyes open and was greeted with a dimly lit, but mercifully visible, room. So he could still see. Seemed as though he was on a lucky streak. Obviously that wouldn't last much longer.

Scar's pessimism was not unfounded. As his eyes adjusted, he realized with a start that a figure was towering over him. It was tall and slender, and two long, curved horns sprouted from its head. Scar couldn't make out its face, but it was clear that the figure was staring at him.

"Pitiful beast!" it boomed. "Thou shalt now pay for all the atrocities thou hast committed in thy sinful life!"

Scar's eyes widened and he struggled to get upright. "No, no," he protested weakly. "There… must be a mistake. You have the wr-"

"Do not worsen my judgement of you further, fiend!" shouted the horned figure. The voice was male, that much Scar could tell, and also increasingly angry. "Make not excuses and face thine punishments with dignity - if indeed thou even possess any!"

Scar tried backing away but quickly met a wall. "Please, you have to understand!" he begged. "Everything I did I had ample -"

"_Silence!_" the figure exploded. Scar shrank into the ground, quivering in fear.

For a few moments, there was a tense quietness. Scar didn't dare to make any further protests, and the figure appeared to have nothing else to say. But then, gradually, Scar heard the figure make a slight noise.

"Eheheh… eheheheheheh…"

The figure's shoulders shook slightly with soft laughter. He reached over, turned on a light, looked at Scar's dumbfounded expression, and then burst into louder laughter.

"Bwahahahaha!" The light showed that the figure was a pale man whose horns were merely a helmet. "You should have seen the look on your face!" he exclaimed through fits of laughter.

Scar's face turned slowly from shock to confusion to resentment. "And just _what_ is this?"

"A little concept you may have heard of called a 'joke'," replied the man smoothly. He bowed deeply. "Loki, god of mischief, deception and trickery, humbly at your service."

When Scar said nothing, Loki raised an eyebrow. "Well? Are you going to be civil and introduce yourself?"

"No," Scar growled. "I don't tolerate foolishness such as the stunt you just pulled."

Loki crossed his arms, smirking. "Is that so? Well, if I were you, I'd tolerate just about anything I did."

"And why is that?" sneered Scar.

"Oh, nothing major," replied Loki nonchalantly, twirling a broken staff in his fingers. "Just the little fact that I was the one who noticed your mangy hide floating around outside and, in a charitable mood, deigned to drag you to a place where your sad little lungs could draw breath."

Scar blinked, at a rare loss for words.

"Yes, I thought that might change your tone," continued Loki. "I've been here a while, you see. I saw the Spiderman taking a space-walk as well - I assume that was your doing? Kudos. Not much to be done for him now."

Scar's mouth finally caught up with his brain. "And where exactly did you spring from?"

"That 'Stargate' thing that was on your ship - you know, the one you decided to explode? That bright idea was the reason I was even outside in the first place." He chuckled. "Yes, were I not a god I'd probably be pretty ticked at you for that little mishap. But luckily for you, there's not much that can kill me."

"Well, the question now is what to do with ourselves."

"Quite. I can see two options. We can stand here and trade witticisms until you collapse from starvation, or, we can see if there's anywhere we can go which isn't this dull husk of a space vessel."

"I'd prefer that second option," said Scar straight-facedly.

"Hmm, I thought you might. The Stargate is obviously no longer open to us - again, fantastic work - so have you any alternatives to suggest?"

Scar considered this for a moment. "One of my underlings mentioned something about a 'glider', which I gather a _lowly_ oxygen-reliant being such as myself may use to safely travel outside the ship."

Loki clasped his hands together. "That may be our escape route. Come, let us go find these gliders."

Loki strode out of the room, and Scar, seeing little else he could do, decided to follow him.

"By the way," called Loki, "you never did introduce yourself."

"Scar," answered the lion. He reflected on something for a moment. "_King _Scar," he corrected.

"Well, Your_ Majesty_, it's an absolute pleasure."

"That means a lot, coming from the self-proclaimed god of deception."

Loki grinned widely. "Oh, we are going to get along like a kingdom on fire."

* * *

_**If you're familiar with my opinions on Scar, you should have seen that coming. And now, reviews!**_


	11. 10: Everyone's a Hero (In Their Own Way)

Black Mesa should have set off several governmental alarm bells. When the most advanced Scientific facility on Earth wants to locate deep underground a remote desert, and starts constructing rooms as pointless as they are deadly, it's time for someone along the line to cut funding. But no-one did, and Black Mesa still stands today as a 'what not to do' of employee-safe workplace design.

In one of the corridors closer to the arid surface, someone was typing furiously at a computer keyboard. Specifically, he was a turtle in a technological wheelchair, wearing a blue helmet and a thick pair of glasses. "I've almost got it," he announced in a nasally voice. "How we doing, Joe?"

Behind him, a man pressed himself against a corner, popping occasionally to shoot hostile green aliens with one of his dual machine guns. His short black hair was styled into spikes, and he had a goatee. He wore a black leather jacket with white stripes down the sleeves, under which he wore a black t-shirt with a red Superman logo. "Alright, I guess," he reported. "Though there sure are a lot of these alien sons of bitches! You better hurry up!" As if to emphasise his point, he ducked his head back just in time to avoid a ball of green electricity.

A large metallic door at the end of the corridor began to creak slowly open, processing Bentley's computational demands. Outside, the sun shone blisteringly down on the catwalk that connected this corridor to another. "There! I've finally got the door open. Aang, you ready?"

Bentley was addressing a short boy, aged 12. His head was shaved bald, and was adorned with long blue tattoo in the shape of an arrow. He had identical but thinner ones on his arms and legs also. His grey eyes sparkled with a curious mixture of innocence and wisdom. His clothes were orange and yellow, and strange outfit that billowed in the air he manipulated. He flicked his long wooden staff, and two orange wings sprouted from near the top, with a orange tail near the bottom.

"Sure," he replied, "but I feel kind of bad about leaving you guys here."

"Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," reassured Bentley. "You're the only one here who can fly – for any length, anyway," he clarified, glancing down to the small rocket thrusters on the sides of his wheelchair. "If you can locate an exit from the air, we'll all get out of here that much faster."

Aang nodded confidently. He ran towards the door, jumped, and grabbed the wooden frame of the staff's wings. He bent the air under him and flew out of sight.

"How do you think he'll do?" asked Angry Joe. No sooner did he say this then he and Bentley heard Aang scream fearfully, followed by the sound of heavy gunfire. Aang flew back into the corridor. He threw aside his staff and curled into a ball. He splayed his limbs, sending air blowing fiercely in all directions. The aliens Joe had been shooting at were knocked against the walls and fell unconscious. Aang floated in the middle of the corridor, clearly agitated.

"Close the door!" he yelled at Bentley. "_Closeitcloseitcloseit_!"

"I can't!" protested Bentley. "It took me ten minutes to work out how to open the thing!"

A helicopter appeared in the doorway, hovering just above the catwalk. A heavy machine-gun began rotating menacingly. All three screamed and bolted behind the corner, where mercifully, the helicopter couldn't see them. As soon as they were behind cover, the helicopter's bullets began tearing holes in the wall across from them. Aang's staff was knocked forward by a few wayward bullets. He pulled it closer with a subtle Airbending motion, but the wings were damaged beyond repair. He frowned sadly at it.

Partly because the gun was terrifying them beyond rational conversation, and partly because they couldn't hear a word anyone was saying anyway, they retreated down the corridor until the noise had died down.

"Holy crap!" swore Joe. "I guess that rules out going outside. You okay, Aang?"

"Yeah," answered the Avatar. "But there's no way I'm flying on this again."

"As Joe himself said, there's not much point having it anyway now," said Bentley. "Gentlemen, while I had hoped we could leave this _deathtrap_, I'm afraid we'll have to resort to Plan B."

"Find Doctor Horrible and fill him full of lead?" asked Angry Joe, hefting his two MP5s enthusiastically.

"Uh... yes."

"Awesome!" smiled Joe.

Aang gave him a concerned look. "It worries me how much you enjoy violence."

"Ah, be quiet."

"I was taught that all life is sacred," protested Aang. "You can't solve everything through fighting."

"Listen, I hear you," said Joe. "But whatever brought us here wants us _to_ fight. So," he said, cocking his rifles, "let's go fight."

##

A marine, clad in white camouflage, led two others through the lower levels of Black Mesa. Turning the corner, they met an elderly Scientist who was crouched fearfully in a corner.

"Oh thank God you've arrived!" exclaimed the Scientist, voice full of joyful hope, seconds before the marine opened fire on him with his rifle, killing him.

Ensuring he was dead, the squad continued along the corridor, eventually reaching a control room. The squad leader kicked down the door and entered hurriedly, pointing his gun at the occupants and securing every corner.

The Scientists inside put their hands up, confused. "What's going on?" queried an especially old professor. The marine told him in no uncertain terms to shut his mouth.

One of the Scientists was far younger than the others. Though he had also put his hands up, he hadn't turned to face the soldiers. He wore an immaculate white labcoat – and more bizarrely, immaculately white gloves and immaculately white boots. A dark pair of goggles sat on his head, just under his short blond hair. He glared at the wall as the soldiers entered the room.

"Here's what's going to go down," announced the marine leader. He shot the Scientist nearest the door. "I think that sums everything up. No-one try anything funny."

"Sarge, that guy's not looking at us," pointed out one of his men. The leader eyeballed the youngest Scientist.

"You there!" he barked. "You have the-" That was as far as he got.

The young man had spun on his heel, producing a red and black firearm seemingly from nowhere. He fired a red blast at the marine, knocking him to the floor. He was able to stun another marine before the final one opened fire. He ducked under a desk as the other Scientists fled the room. The third marine fired his machine-gun at the space the Scientist had just been, yelling. The doctor rolled his eyes. Dumb muscle.

He poked out a side of the desk and blasted the final marine several times, rendering him unconscious. Thus safe, he took the guns of all three marines and threw them down the elevator shaft – exposed, of course – across the hall.

"Pansy!" spat the still-conscious lead marine from the floor. "Why don't you finish us off, huh?"

The Scientist crouched down next to the soldier, glaring intensely.

"Killing's not my style," he said vehemently.

With those words, and a swish of his labcoat, Dr Horrible left.

* * *

Luigi wandered through the lower levels of the ship, kicking a rock absently. Most of the other occupants of the ship were socialising, but Luigi had always been quite shy. Instead, he spent his time traversing the smaller, less used corridors.

He hadn't expected to find anyone down here, but turning a corner, that's precisely what happened.

Snake was in one of the lowermost rooms, a storage room with circular windows. He cast his eyes around, and seemed to be deep in thought.

When Luigi entered, Snake whirled around, spy instincts fully active. He relaxed himself when he saw it was. "Hello, Luigi," he greeted in his husky voice.

"Hey," answered the green plumber. "What you a-doing down here?"

Snake shook his head. "It's just... this ship seems familiar to me. Don't you get that?"

Luigi examined the room. "No...?"

"Strange," murmured Snake, "since my vague memories associate this place with you." He shrugged, and stalked out of the room. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough. But I dislike being kept waiting."

* * *

They were in a larger, lower room. It was seemingly a dead end, so Aang left the two others to work out a new path.

The young boy planted his feet and tried to lift a fragment of stone from the ground with an Earthbending motion. Nothing happened. He tried punching forward while exhaling, but no fire came from his fist. Aang sighed helplessly. Deciding not to tell his new friends of his problem, he walked up to where they were working.

Bentley placed a bomb against a thick steel door, retreated to a safe distance while it beeped and flashed red, and then ducked his head slightly when it exploded. He surveyed the damage he had wrought, and sighed. "Nothing. This door's just too strong."

"At least that makes a bit of sense," retorted Joe. "It's a big metal door. It _looks _strong." He pointed to a small glass window in a nearby wooden door. He had unloaded two magazines into it at point blank range. The glass had cracked somewhat, but remained intact. "I just don't know how to explain that," he said. "Who built this place?! **And what were they smoking?!**"

Aang strode back and forth, rubbing his chin. He flipped his staff around on one wrist as he thought. "There's got to be a way out of here somewhere," he murmured. "We just have to stay positive and keep moving! Right, guys?" There was no response. "Guys?" Aang repeated, turning to look at them.

Both Joe and Bentley were surrounded by a coalescing film of white light, frozen and unmoving in the positions they had been in. Aang blinked at them, and waved a hand in front of their faces.

"We've got about two minutes," said a voice behind him. Aang turned to see Dr Horrible standing next to a large device, sitting on a wheeled platform. It looked like a artillery gun, but its barrel shot a beam of quiet white energy, specifically at Joe and Bentley.

"What did you do to them?" asked Aang, readying his staff for a fight. He glared mistrustfully at Dr Horrible, angered at his allies' predicament.

"Freeze ray," explained Horrible almost nonchalantly. "Surprisingly easy to cobble together so quickly. This place has an entire room of Wonderflonium. It's ridiculous."

"Will they be okay?"

Horrible waved a hand dismissively. "Perfectly. Like I said, it only lasts about two minutes."

"So what do you want?" asked Aang.

"I was hoping we could talk things out," said Horrible. "I don't see any reason for me to di- I mean, I don't see any reason for us to fight."

"That's so weird!" said Aang. "I was just talking to him about pacifism!"

"Yeah, what a crazy random happenstance," lied Horrible, who had listened to their conversation over the security system.

"I'll do anything I can to resolve this peacefully," said Aang. "Have you a plan?"

"Did you get any information about this place?"

Aang fished out the letter which he had found earlier in his robes. Horrible took it and read through it quickly, humming to himself while doing so.

"Aha!" he said upon reading something. "It says you still 'win' if, instead of killing me, you remove me from the area."

"That's great!" said Aang. "Only... we tried leaving up on the surface." He opened his staff's wings and showed Horrible the bullet holes. "It... didn't work."

"That's okay," reassured Dr Horrible. "I'm a dangerous Scientist, in a building full of dangerous Science. I'm sure I can Science my way out. Dangerously." Then, he threw himself to the side as a hail of machine-gun fire tore through the space he had occupied seconds previously.

"Look out, Aang!" Angry Joe yelled, brandishing his firearms. "Dr Horrible's here, and he can teleport!"

"Calm down!" shouted Aang. "We were just talking!"

"That didn't feel like two minutes..." moaned Horrible from his position on the floor.

Bentley wheeled himself up so as to be closer to Aang, Joe and Horrible. "Just _what_ is going on here?"

"Fucking Dr Horrible is what's going on!" swore Joe. "He came out of nowhere!"

He aimed his two guns at the prone Scientist, but before he could shoot him, his weapons were blown from his hands by a gust of air.

Joe glared at Aang, who had an arm outstretched. "What was that for?"

"Listen!" snapped Aang. "He wants to reach a peaceful solution."

"Peaceful?" asked Joe incredulously. "We're here to fight! How can we reach a peaceful solution?"

"I'm intrigued," say Bentley. "What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I read the letter you got," said Horrible as he stood. "If I leave the premises, you three win. No-one has to kill m- each other. No-one has to kill each other."

"I assume Aang already told you of our previous escape attempt?" queried Bentley.

"He has. But I'd be a bad Scientist if I accepted the only way to leave a building is via the door."

Joe muttered to himself as he reclaimed his two machine-guns from the floor. "I'm watching you," he warned. "Don't try anything funny."

"Right, right," said Horrible. "Understandable. I _am_ an evil Scientist."

"You know, the more you say that, the less convincing it sounds," Aang pointed out.

"In any case, I read on one of the computer files something about a 'Resonance Cascade'," said Bentley.

"Ah, that sounds like a good escape route," replied Dr Horrible. "Actually, it sounds like an abysmal escape route, one that's likely to get me killed, but it does sounds better than being riddled with helicopter bullets."

"The experiment was deeper down in the facility, as I recall," said Bentley.

"Lead on," gestured Horrible.

"Yeah, you take point," said Joe. "I'll stand behind our new friend here with a MP5 between his shoulder blades."

"It's always so nice when people get along," Aang said dryly.

* * *

The glider drifted through the vast void of space. Silently. So silently.

"Loki."

"Scar?"

"I'm about to cry from boredom."

"Excellent. I could use some entertainment."

The lion rolled his eyes. "Perhaps we should discuss something?"

Loki pressed a few buttons on the controls. "Very well. What do you want to discuss?"

"Tell me a bit more about yourself," Scar demanded.

Loki gave him an oily smile over his shoulder. "Well, where to begin? I was raised in the royal family of a far-away kingdom. My father, the king, was a moron. My older brother, whose shadow I was forever resigned to, doubly so. I was never even considered for kingship. And furthermore, I was always looked down upon for my comparative weakness. But I was smart. So smart, in fact, that one day, when I had had enough, I seized the throne. But, alas, my glorious reign was cut short, and the idiots that surrounded me stole back my birthright. There, that's my story."

Scar stared at Loki.

"What's wrong?" Loki sneered.

Scar sat back in his seat. "It's just... I can empathize. Let me fill you in on _my_ story..."

* * *

Dr Horrible and Bentley examined the panels of the experiment control room. Aang poked his head through a window in the front wall and looked down to see a huge orange room, about five stories deep. The centre of the ceiling was occupied by a huge machine which pointed towards the ground. Also in the room was a railed cart housing a large florescent crystal. The rails led directly under the machine.

"So?" asked Angry Joe impatiently. "What's the word?"

"The teleportation happens when you shoot the big laser at the glowy rocks," said Horrible, reading from a screen. "Really, it's pretty basic Science."

"The experiment is complex, but it appears to have been abandoned just as the apparatus were set up," said Bentley, turning around. "It should just be a simple matter of having Dr Horrible climb down and push that crystal-bearing cart under the machine. I can stay up here and monitor the instruments."

"And then we all go home happy!" said Aang.

"Well, I go _somewhere_ happy..." murmured Dr Horrible to himself. He slipped out of the door and walked down the corridor to the elevator.

Joe went beside Bentley and examined the control panel. "They've got some really advanced stuff here."

"Ah, but their security system leaves something to be desired," said Bentley triumphantly, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "I've already got access." He pressed a button, turning on the intercom. "You still with us, Doctor?"

"I am," came the weak reply, "but the twirly elevator made me kind of dizzy."

"You coming up to the room?" asked Joe.

There was a pause, followed by "... Yep. I'm in the chamber."

Aang leaned over and saw the Scientist walk to the centre of the room. He waved down and Horrible returned the gesture with a wan smile.

"Should I do anything?" he called up.

"No need – I'm activating the experiment from here. All you have to do is push the specimen into the path of the laser."

Horrible came up behind the trolley and tested its weight as the laser activated. "Well, alright. Bye, then."

"Bye!" called down Aang.

"Best of luck," said Bentley.

"Yeah, yeah," said Joe. "But know that I'll be pointing my gun at until you disappear."

Horrible pushed the cart down its small track, approaching the laser. He cast one last glance to Aang. Then, the laser reacted to the presence of the crystal by shaking violently and shining with a far greater intensity. The machine started to explode slightly at the top.

"Joe, I know you want to keep an eye on him, but suddenly it seems like a good idea to _get the heck out of here_!" yelled Bentley worriedly.

Joe took one look at the highly unstable machine and said "Yeah, good point."

The three broke into a run just as a shaft of laser shot through the observation window and dug a hole into the solid steel wall behind them. Aang shot them forward with a blast of air, throwing them far out of harm's way. The machine continued to throw arcs of electricity and bursts of laser into the control room as Bentley urgently tapped at a wall-mounted keypad, shutting the door behind them.

"This place is scary," said Aang, once the cacophony was shut away from them.

"Damn right," muttered Joe. "So, is he gone?"

"Well, either he successfully teleported," mused Bentley, "or he's smeared over the chamber walls like _jam_." Aang winced.

"So, either way, mission accomplished!" said Joe. "Great. Super. What happens-"

##

Clank stood on one of the chairs on the ship's bridge, examining a control console. He pressed a few buttons, to little effect.

"Fascinating," he murmured. "The systems are heavily damaged, but should be online soon enough."

"Good," said Deadpool from his makeshift desk. "I'm dying to check my MySpace, yo." He made an interested noise as the three heroes teleported on to the bridge.

Clank turn to regarded them, focusing his large green eyes on the turtle. "Bentley?"

"Clank!" exclaimed Bentley. "It's good to see you again. I thought we seen the last of each other after that regrettable alien affair."

"Likewise," said Clank. "I imagine that Sly will be most gratified to see you are here."

"Sly's here too?" said Bentley. "That's wonderful news!"

"Why?" said Aang. "Does it explain this whole situation any better?"

"Not really." Bentley smiled. "But it does mean that'll be a lot more enjoyable."

* * *

_**Reviews are enjoyable too. Just sayin'.**_


	12. Day 11, Test 37, Calibration 2 0

Metropolis is exactly what it sounds like; a huge, sprawling city. Vehicles fly through the air, following streams of traffic that are hard to determine from an outside viewpoint. Skyscrapers of smooth, futuristic architecture take up half the skyline, but the city's urbanity is pleasantly contrasted by an abundance of gardens and general greenery. It was in one of these public gardens that our next three heroes suddenly found themselves.

One was wearing a suit of advanced armour which he seemed very comfortable in; fitting, as he had designed and built it himself. The metal was mostly red with gold being a secondary colour. The face of the armour seemed to be scowling, but the eyes glowed a soft, friendly blue. The same light came from the suit's palms and soles of feet, as well as an important-seeming circular component in the chest. He spun on his heel and analysed the two others.

Similar to him in appearance was the another hero. He was a tall and bulky android, red in colour. He wore gloves, boots and a cape, all blue. A "T" was marked on his torso in yellow, and his shoulders were covered in grey metal. His eyes were mostly black with a green centre. He, too, activated a few sensors to attempt to decipher the situation.

In contrast to the other two, the third was barely taller than a meter. He was spherical in shape, although he had limbs. Any cuteness from his size was completely offset by the stern metal mask which covered his entire front, revealing glowing yellow eyes. On his shoulders were epaulettes of curved, black metal. A purple cape billowed out behind him, and he held a large, spiked sword made of gleaming gold. He brandished this sword defensively and took a smart hop backwards, but after a few moments of watching his unmoving opponents, he relaxed his stance, if not his guard.

"Hey there," said the man in the suit. His voice was pleasant, and clearly used to conversing at length. "You two as confused as I am? I'm pretty confused."

"My readings are unhelpful," said the robot.

"I too am lost," rumbled the masked one in a deep voice. "Perhaps a truce would be wise."

"Cool. Name's Tony Stark," said Iron Man matter-of-factly. "Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. Currently at a loss for words. If I were you I'd enjoy this while it lasts."

"I am called Red Tornado," said the robot. "I work alongside the Justice League to keep the peace."

"And I am Meta Knight," said the final one, bowing. "I am captain of the battleship Halberd, and serve as an advisor to King Dedede, ruler of Dreamland."

"Super," said Iron Man. "Now we have the who. Doesn't explain the what, where, how or why."

Meta Knight reached into his cape and produced a piece of paper. "Hmm," he said. "A note."

"I can see that," said Iron Man. "I'd be a little more concerned with what the note says."

Meta Knight shot him a glare, quickly tiring of his attitude. Then his large eyes moved slightly as he skimmed through the information on the letter. "There is one here named Clockwerk," he summarized. "We are tasked with finding him and defeating him."

"Defeating him?" asked Iron Man. "Define 'defeating'."

"To win victory over," stated Red Tornado, "to frustrate, eg a hope; in law, to nullify something."

"I was kinda talking in the context of the letter..."

Meta Knight scanned the letter a second time. "We have two choices. Death, or exile."

"Exile?"

"Removing Clockwerk from this area will result in our victory."

Iron Man turned slowly on his thrusters, taking in the vista that surrounded them. "That last one sounds like a lot of work. For a start, we'd have to find an edge to this place. Jarvis, run a scan."

There was a pause.

"Jarvis?" asked Tony.

"Who are you talking to?" said Meta Knight.

"My suit has an AI," explained Iron Man. "Or, it should. I don't like this."

"In any case, it appears termination is our only option," Red Tornado said.

"Sounds like it," agreed Iron Man. "Not always pretty, but hey, sometimes there's just no option."

Meta Knight looked doubtful. "I can only hope that our opponent is deserving of such a fate. It is not to be given lightly."

One of the nearby skyscrapers rocked with an explosion. Iron Man lifted into the air. "We'll discuss the morality of the situation later. Right now, it's time for action." He looked down at his team-mates, and his smile was evident in his voice. "Sure hope you two can fly."

The reasoning behind Red Tornado's name became apparent when his legs disappeared into a red whirlwind, and he rose to Tony's height. Meta Knight's cape transformed into a pair of purple bat wings, and he too matched Iron Man's altitude.

Iron Man nodded. "Good, good. But now the question is whether you can fly _this fast_."

He sent a surge of energy into his thrusters and rocketed away at high speed, leaving his two team-mates struggling to match his pace. Tony smirked to himself.

"I do _so_ love being me."

* * *

In Maleficent's castle, Dr Horrible tapped on the thick wooden door that led to the small side-room where Doom was working. It was open, but Horrible felt it was polite.

Dr Doom turned around from the metal circle he was building, his cape flourishing to match his movement. If Horrible was surprised by his intimidating metal mask, he didn't show it.

"Who dares to disturb **Doom** in his work?" thundered the older villain.

"I was sent down here to help you out?" said Horrible, more question than statement. "I'm an evil Scientist too."

"**Doom **is not evil," replied the other doctor. "His morality is merely far removed from that of his bleeding-heart adversaries."

"Right." Dr Horrible walked up to the portal and looked it over. "What are we making?"

"_**Doom **_is making a trans-dimensional portal, having been commissioned to construct one upon informing Maleficent that I arrived here by such means," said Doom. "_You_ will stand there and render assistance to **Doom **the rare times it will be necessary."

"Well, okay. Reminds me of my work experience placement," said Horrible, seating himself on a box.

"_**Doom**__ told you to stand!_"

"Agh, sorry!" yelped Horrible, hopping to his feet.

* * *

They had docked the glider in a large, empty hangar. Upon seeing the Death Star, both Scar and Loki had been eager to land on it, albeit mostly because it was the only object they had found since leaving the Goa'uld ship. Judging from its fearsome appearance, they had expected resistance, but the space station hadn't even acknowledged them, let alone fired on their tiny vessel. When they landed, there had been no party to welcome or board them. As they walked the corridors, they didn't meet a single soul.

"It's all very unnerving," commented Scar. "Where _is_ everyone?"

"An installation this large shouldn't be unmanned," agreed Loki. "Curious. Very curious."

After a lengthy time spent exploring, they eventually happened upon the signs of a struggle. Soldiers in pristine white armour lay scattered on the floor of the hallway like broken toys. On one side, the causes of death were as numerous as they were painful, but they all seemed to be based on electrocution. On the other side of corridor, there was but one factor which had taken the soldier's lives; a very copious amount of bullets.

As Loki dropped into a crouch to inspect the bodies, Scar repressed a shudder. "How disquieting this place is. I'm not sure I want to continue."

Loki grinned mischievously at him. "Oh? So shall I continue on by myself, and leave you here with all these corpses?"

"That's not what I was suggesting," pouted Scar.

Loki nodded. "Good, because I'm not entirely sure these bodies are _dead_!" He kicked one towards Scar and the lion jumped back, terrified. He regained his composure and growled at Loki.

Loki laughed. "Oh, how marvellously paranoid you are. I'll never tire of scaring you." He cleared his throat. "But seriously, these bodies are days old. Whoever or whatever dispatched them, it's long since moved on." He stood up and smiled down at Scar. "So do try to calm down."

Scar glared at him. "It's far easier to be relaxed about this kind of thing when you're immortal."

"Yes," beamed Loki. "It most certainly is."

The elevator which Doom had exploded in his attempt to kill Cole was, bizarrely enough, still not operational. Nonetheless, they eventually managed to find their way to the bridge.

Loki whistled, examining the Dr Doom-shaped hole left in the wall. "Damn," he said. "Quite a battle took place here. Wouldn't you agree, Scar?" No response. "Scar?"

Scar had paused, sniffing the air. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. He had been investigating the control panel when Loki had given in to impatience and kicked him.

"What are you doing?" asked Loki.

Scar shook his head. "It's probably nothing. Just thought I picked up... a familiar scent."

"Yes, of course," said Loki sceptically. "An animal you _just happen_ to know _just happened_ to leave your distant homeland and _just happened_ to pass by this exact spot in desolate outer space."

"It's no less likely than the rest of this ridiculous situation," countered Scar. "And still more likely than you ever beating your brother in a fight."

"Ha!" scoffed Loki. "As if you're one to talk."

"I am, actually. I remind you I succeeded in _my_ fratricide attempt."

Loki glared at the dark lion. "You win this round, _Taka_."

"I thought I told you that name in confidence!"

They bickered for some time before Loki noticed the portal which still stood in its alcove in the corner of the room. He approached it and tapped it experimentally with what was left of his staff.

"Perhaps I'll be able to repair this."

"Where will it lead?" asked Scar.

Loki shrugged. "Who can say? Judging from its hasty design, it might not even sent us to the same co-ordinates it was aimed at when last used."

Scar cast his eye around the bridge, noting the dents, burns and singes which littered the walls. His mind drifted back to the unfortunate Stormtroopers. "Well, wherever it goes, I'm sure it will be an improvement from here."

* * *

"Pew, pew," said Iron Man as he blasted away another robot with his repulsors. His voice bordered on bored. "Eat laser, criminal scum."

Meta Knight flew along the street they stood on, slicing robots cleanly in half as he went. "Stark, behind you!" he called.

Tony glanced behind to see a robot far bigger than the others bearing down on him. He blasted it a few times with his thrusters, to little effect. Just before the robot attacked him, a red cyclone of air slammed into its side, sending it careening off of the high street and into the seemingly bottomless city.

Red Tornado landed next to Tony, his arm reverting back from a hurricane.

"Thanks for the assist there, Big Red," said Iron Man. "Good timing."

Red Tornado didn't reply, instead staring straight ahead.

"Hey." Iron Man whistled and waved an armoured hand in front of Red Tornado's face. "Do I need to turn you off and turn you back on again?"

Meta Knight flew up to them and came to a smart stop. "What seems to be the problem?"

Red Tornado blinked. "My apologies. I was distracted by my sensors. A very large robotic unit has entered our vicinity."

Iron Man and Meta Knight shared a look.

"Clockwerk?"queried Meta Knight.

"Just maybe," replied Iron Man. "Okay gang, split up and look for clues."

Iron Man shot away from them, and Red Tornado and Meta Knight took two other directions. Iron Man flew gracefully over a skyscrapers and arced around another, twisting and turning.

Meta Knight uncertainly activated the handheld communicator Tony had loaned him. "Tornado. How large is this creature?"

"Very large," replied Red Tornado gravely. "Roughly the size of -"

"An especially unfriendly family condo?" interjected Iron Man.

"...Yes, that would be accurate."

"Yeah, thought so," said Iron Man, landing on a skyscraper's roof. "I found him."

Below him, Clockwerk flew slowly through the air, beating his massive wings. He was an owl; key word being _was_. Now, he was a huge, owl-shaped cyborg with glowing golden eyes which broadcasted pure, seething hate. His grey, metal body was augmented with several additions, such as jets on the backs of his wings and cannons on their fronts. His talons were so sharp, Tony cold almost hear them slice the air.

"Huh," said Tony. "Sesame Street's changed since I was a kid."

"What do you see?" asked Meta Knight urgently over the radio.

"Suspect is giant owl, repeat, giant owl," joked Iron Man, leaping off the roof. "Moving to engage."

"Stark, wait!"

It was too late. Iron Man locked his various weapons on Clockwerk, hitting the bird with a salvo of missiles, both physical and made of energy. The physical missiles had no effect, but the energy weapons caused a curious yellow crackling to be visible just above the owl's metallic skin.

Clockwerk's golden eyes snapped into focus on Tony as the first few projectiles struck him.

"**You are the one to face my perfection?**" His voice was loud and robotic, and yet jarringly sophisticated and uninterested. "**You cannot hope to win.**"

He returned fire, shooting several missiles from his wings which, while proportional small to him, were all thicker than Tony's head.

"Whuh oh," Iron Man said, as he nimbly dodged the first few rounds. Clockwerk emitted a large ring, roughly two and a half meters across. Inside the ring was crackling electricity. This fact became very apparent to Tony when he became entangled within its centre. The electricity burned through his suit's workings, and elicited a cry of pain from the human within. Every light bar the vital Arc Reactor failed, and Iron Man began to fall rapidly.

Tony was working out a solution as quickly as he could when he felt an upward pull. A red cyclone dragged him up into an alcove where Meta Knight and Red Tornado were standing, the latter using his arm to catch Tony.

The suit came back online at length. Tony stood and made an annoyed grunt. "Damn. Bet that messed with the circuitry to no end." He looked up to see the two glaring at him. "What?" he said innocently.

"Your actions were foolish," chided Red Tornado.

"Indeed," added Meta Knight. "We may have lost valuable time to formulate a plan."

"Relax. He's strong, but not that fast."

"We have approximately 47 seconds before he returns," said Red Tornado.

"See? Plenty of time. Listen. He's tough, but energy bullets degrade some kind of shield he has. We need to combine energy with conventional weaponry."

"You are the only one possessing energy weapons," stated Red Tornado.

"Then I'll be the one to soften him up."

"And Galaxia will serve as our physical offensive," said Meta Knight, raising his golden sword into the air.

"Cool. One thing. The degradation doesn't last long. We gotta be quick about taking him down."

Meta Knight glanced at his cape, seeing the shape of his wings. "I believe I can manage that."

A missile exploded against the ceiling of the room they were in.

"Good, because we're on!" yelled Iron Man. He and Red Tornado flew out towards Clockwerk. "Hold 'em in place!"

Red Tornado flew below the huge owl and then summoned two massive cyclone using both his arms. He aimed one at each of Clockwerk's wings, slowing his movement to almost nothing. Iron Man then flew close and peppered Clockwerk's body with as many repulsor shots as he could, tearing several small holes in his shielding.

"**Your efforts are in vain**," taunted Clockwerk. He didn't sound mocking; he was so conceited, it was if the possibility of his loss was so unfathomable it wasn't even amusing. "**I will prevail. Clockwerk is perfection**."

"I don't understand how I can constantly meet people more egotistical than I am," joked Tony. "I mean, honestly. You'd think it was impossible."

Meta Knight stood above them, readying his sword. He had an idea of where to strike, but had to wait for Tony to loosen the shielding there. He would have directed the superhero as such were he not certain Clockwerk was fully aware of him and hence would hear of his plan.

"**I tire of you insects**," announced Clockwerk. "**Prepare to face your end.**"

He fired another electric ring at Red Tornado. Unable to release his unorthodox hold of Clockwerk's wings, the robot watched helplessly as it approached him.

Tony swore and fired some missiles at the centre of the ring, but it failed to slow or change course. He saw Red Tornado be consumed by the electricity. He convulsed pitifully as it raked through his circuitry, and his legs ceased to be a whirlwind, causing him to plummet to the ground.

Tony roared and unleashed everything he had on Clockwerk. He struck the joint between Clockwerk's wing and his body, breaking the shielding there.

High above, Meta Knight saw the opportunity he had been waiting for. He flew forward, driving Galaxia directly into the affected joint... and then continuing out the other side. His wings burst open and he came to a stop mid-air.

Clockwerk screeched, partly in pain, partly in shock, and mostly in shock at feeling pain. His severed wing fell gracelessly into the depths of Metropolis, following Red Tornado. He spun out of control and slammed into a courtyard, digging up concrete as he fell. Iron Man touched down just in front of his face.

"**My body**!" shrieked Clockwerk. "**My perfect body! You've ruined it!**"

"Yep," said Iron Man, his tone clipped.

"**Clockwerk will know revenge for this heinous crime!**"

"Nope," said Iron Man, in the same tone. He then raised his arms and fired several blasts of his repulsors into the bird's face.

Clockwerk thrashed, screeching violently. There was a terrible buzzing in Tony's ears from the sound. He activated his armour's sound muting function, but even that seemed to be insufficient as the sound rang in his helmet. He pulled it off, scowling at it from under his neat black goatee.

Meta Knight landed beside him. "Is he vanquished?"

Tony glanced at Clockwerk. "His eyes. Look. They're off. Whole thing is off. We win."

He replaced his helmet. "Where's Red?" he asked urgently. "Maybe I can fix him. Where is he?"

Without even waiting for a response, Iron Man blasted off from the ground at speed. It was at this moment they teleported to the ship.

When dealing with advanced (read: ridiculous) physics concepts such as instantaneous teleportation, there are few universally acknowledged truths. However, it is generally observed that when an object moving at a velocity is teleported, it maintains that same velocity. In layman's terms, speedy thing go in, speedy thing go out.

Thus, when Tony appeared on the bridge, he slammed into the wooden wall so hard it left a sizeable dent.

Tony groaned as his suit sank to the floor. The lights of its eyes flickered off, turning grey.

"Hey, Starky!" called Deadpool brightly. "That was some entrance! Just a shame we didn't have any AC/DC handy." He chuckled turning to Meta Knight. "Howdy. Who are you?"

The knight ignored him, his eyes wide. He took in the room they had appeared in. "This..." said Meta Knight slowly, taking reverential steps towards the steering wheel. He lay one hand it softly. "This is my ship."

* * *

_**I reckon you're sick of these constant reminders for reviews ruining the ruminating final lines. I am too. But we'll always have alliteration.**_


	13. Day 12: A Match Made in Hell

_With Meta Knight on board, our ship had a captain. It also had a name: The Halberd. Bentley informed me that a halberd is one of those pole-axe hybrids medieval guards have. It's a nice weapon, and a nice name._

_In fact, everything was going pretty well at this point. I had a few old friends by my side, and was making new ones every day. Of course, the unfortunate few deaths hung over us – Zeke, for instance, constantly spoke highly of V. I myself was shaken when I heard about Clockwerk. His presence here made everything stranger; and darker. Having my parents' killer so close was unnerving to say the least. Yes, they assured me he had died, but I thought that too once. And I was proven wrong._

_But I'm getting ahead of myself. Back then, the mood on the ship was convivial, with people chatting and joking freely, forgetting more and more our ludicrous situation. Little did I suspect that things were about to go downhill. It's hard to say when, exactly, but the twelfth day is a good guess._

_That was the day **he** arrived._

* * *

No breeze blew through a loud, terrifying, and geometric land. It was a land which, quite frankly, resembled hell. It was comprised of neat cubes of unnatural material, making the region odd, but still horrifying. Cubic fires blazed on cubic ground, and cubic monstrosities crawled, hopped and floated around the cubic landscape.

A girl in her teens explored this landscape, seemingly unaffected by its fearsome appearance. Her brown hair was arranged in a pair of sloping bangs to the front and a long, braided ponytail to the back. Her outfit consisted of a dark pink top and slacks which covered her legs just past the knee, in the same colour.

She crested a hill to see a group of six piggish humanoids with rotting flesh. Perhaps on a different day she would have screamed. But today, it was pointless to. She had screamed at the huge, jellyfish-like ghost which spat fireballs. She had yelped at the cubic mass of moving lava. She had whimpered slightly at the pillar of fire which had in turn projected gouts of flame. At this point, she was beyond such reactions. Zombie pigmen were positively fluffy.

Next to her, her team-mate appeared in a implosion of white mist; an adult woman, also of Asian descent. She wore black jeans and a dark tank top. Her skin was unnaturally pale, most likely due to the ice present in her body, most evidently on her hands. She grimaced at the creatures Ty Lee was looking at. "Disgusting."

"Yeah," agreed Ty Lee, "but at least they're not on fire." Her wide grey eyes lit up with a sudden realization. "So I can finally show you how I fight!"

Lucy Kuo gave Ty Lee a worried smile. "You don't have to do that."

"But you two took care of everything else!" protested Ty Lee. "I don't want you thinking I'm just a pretty face. I'll be quick!" She jumped off the slight incline they stood on and began flipping towards the pigmen.

Kuo yelled, "No, I mean, you don't have to do that because they don't look hostile!" but Ty Lee was already upon the first pigman. With an admitted degree of disgust, she struck the pigman's arms with her fingers. The pigman's dropped the gold sword it was holding as its arms went limp, and it squealed in confusion. Ty Lee kicked its legs out from under it and flipped over another, since they had already begun to counter-attack. Ty Lee ducked, dodged and dived through them, striking them as she went.

She was holding her own admirably when Kuo teleported beside her and blasted the pigmen away with a wave of icy wind. "Heyyyy," complained Ty Lee sadly. "I was doing well!"

"You were," admitted Kuo, "but I think that's enough of a demonstration." She froze the pigmen in a solid block of ice. Ty Lee muttered something about Waterbenders never being any fun.

From nearby, someone cleared their throat meaningfully. The two looked up. The final member of their team was striding up slowly. He was a figure of black. His cloak dragged along the charred ground. Under his hood, an angular, featureless mask glared out fearlessly at his surroundings. Through his black robes, it was possible to catch glimpses of the dark gray armour he wore.

"You really think that's going to hold them?" he asked. "Because I'd say it has as much chance as an ice sculpture in Hell."

"Haha," laughed Kuo flatly. "Hilarious, Revan."

"It's apt." He shunted an arm and the frozen pigmen flew forward as one. Revan pushed them off a cliff and into the ocean of lava which was omnipresent in the Nether. Ty Lee heard a few squeal in pain, and she winced.

Revan raised an arm effortlessly and two of the pigmen's golden swords rose from the ground and floated towards them. He took one in each hand and examined them for a time. "Golden swords," he said. "What idiot uses a golden sword?"

"Pigmen do, apparently," answered Ty Lee with a smile.

Revan ignored her. "With my lightsabres gone, I haven't much options, have I?" he mused. He swung the two swords in symmetrical circles with one hand each, earning an impressed gasp from Ty Lee and a raised eyebrow from Kuo.

The latter teleported up to him and leaned into his ear. "I'm still concerned with having a minor somewhere so dangerous."

"Never underestimate the value of having a skilled fourteen year old girl," he replied. "Now, let's continue. Tai Lung's not going to crush himself."

* * *

War Machine followed the smell of burning metal and bruised ego to find his best friend, Tony Stark, secreted in one of the smaller rooms on the ship. Tony's armour was scattered all over the room and on various surfaces, alongside a collection of power tools. He was currently staring at his helmet. It was isolated from the suit, but plugged into the Arc Reactor on Tony's chest. The blue eyes hummed innocently.

"There you are!" exclaimed Rhodes, flipping up his face-plate to better talk to Tony. Tony smiled at him.

"Rhodey! Just the man I wanted to see. Do me a favour and punch that helmet really hard. Right at the top there."

Rhodes gave him a sceptical look. "What's wrong? Is it winning the staring contest?"

"Ahaha," laughed Tony drily. "Just do it, please."

Rhodes shrugged and complied. His fist bounced off the top of the helmet, and the eyes flickered. They dimmed to a lifeless grey, and then slowly returned to blue.

Tony grunted. "Damn. Knew that would happen."

It was War Machine's turn to be dry. "Wow. Fascinating. Listen, Tony, this isn't like you. There's drinks and conversation out there, and you're in here fiddling with your helmet."

Tony scowled. "You're a soldier. You know the importance of maintaining your equipment."

War Machine put a fraternal arm around Tony's shoulder. "Yes, I am. Whereas you're a drunken playboy who's at his most comfortable when chatting to someone with a scotch in hand."

Tony nodded thoughtfully. "Your argument is pretty unshakable. And you should have mentioned the scotch earlier."

"Let me change out of this armour, and then I'll introduce you to some of the guys. In particular, there's this guy in a hat who's dying for an autograph..."

Tony and Rhodes left the room shortly afterwards. The helmet's eyes watched them go.

* * *

It had taken a lot of ice powers, Force Stunning, and various acrobatic manoeuvres, but Kuo, Revan and Ty Lee had traversed the Nether successfully. They climbed one final hill to see the roof of a huge fortress. The fortress was comprised of bricks of a very dark mauve, and it stretched out over a deep pit.

"Look," said Kuo quietly. "I think that's him."

"He seems preoccupied," noted Revan. "Excellent. We can launch a sneak attack."

The three examined the grey figure who was meditating on the fortress' roof. His crossed legs were clad in purple slacks with a thick black belt. He wore no other clothes, which made Ty Lee's revelation as to the nature of his species occur with all the more celerity.

"Oh wow!" she yelled. "He's a _giant cat_!"

One of the snow leopard's ears twitched, and his golden eyes opened, focusing on the origin of the noise. He grinned maliciously, unfurling himself and standing up.

"Ty Lee," said Revan with more patience than he thought was deserved, "next time you want to yell something, consider very carefully whether your contribution is sufficiently important. Then, regardless of your judgement, _keep your damn mouth shut_ or else I will use my space-wizard powers to close your oesophagus. Understood?"

"Yes, Mr Revan," said Ty Lee, eyes cast down.

Kuo had already leaped into action, teleporting closer to Tai Lung. She fired spikes of ice at him. He easily dodged her projectiles, catching the last one, and jumped towards her. She teleported behind him and tried freezing him. Tai Lung spun on his heel and put his momentum behind the ice spike he was holding, flinging it at Kuo. It hit her blunt end first, but this was enough to startle her and break her concentration. When she looked back to her opponent, Tai Lung had crossed the distance between them. He jabbed her torso with his index finger, and Kuo dropped. Tai Lung picked her up in one hand and threw her easily back towards Revan.

Kuo saw Ty Lee flip over her as she flew away from Tai Lung. Ty Lee stood before the leopard in a defensive stance.

"Hello there. Are you Tai Lung?" asked the teen. She was nervous, but her cheerful nature was hard to repress.

Tai Lung scoffed. "Had only your friend been so polite! Yes, I am. A pleasure to meet you."

"Same here! My name's Ty Lee." Her grin faded somewhat. "I guess we have to fight now."

He nodded. "So it would seem. Rest assured it will be over quickly."

"I don't really think so."

Tai Lung shot forward suddenly. Ty Lee straightened her legs, angling her body downwards, and flung herself forward by her fingertips, gliding under Tai Lung's legs. She flipped to her feet behind him.

Tai Lung turned slowly, impressed. "Interesting," he smirked. "Perhaps I'll get some enjoyment from this battle after all."

Revan was approaching slowly, cautious of their powerful opponent. His two swords caught the light of the several nearby fires. He was going to go straight to Tai Lung, but a voice called to him.

"Revan!" cried Kuo from where she had fallen. The Jedi changed direction and strode up to her, his black figure towering over her.

"I... I can't move!" she said, panic causing her voice to quiver uncontrollably. "That _thing_ is going to kill us all!"

Revan tilted his head uncertainly. "That's kind of a defeatist attitude to take, don't you think?"

As Kuo urgently outlined a course of action, Ty Lee and Tai Lung continued to do battle, dancing in and out of each other's range.

"You're marvellously talented," complimented Tai Lung.

"Thanks!" said Ty Lee, smiling widely.

"For an amateur, that is," clarified the leopard. "You're not going to win."

"Oh," said Ty Lee. She ducked under a punch he threw and backflipped away from him. "Still, thanks. You're _really_ awesome!"

Tai Lung laughed appreciatively as the two ran up a natural wall. "Thank you. I know."

Suddenly, a golden sword stabbed Tai Lung the back of the shoulder, thrown with unnatural accuracy. He lost his balance and fell towards the fortress' roof, but landed smartly. He turned and roared at Revan, who was standing defiantly nearby.

"That was mean!" protested Ty Lee, who was clinging to the wall. She narrowed her eyes, noticing his empty hands. "Hold on, where's your other sword?"

Revan ignored her, being too focused on the enraged snow leopard that was running on all fours towards him. Revan tried pushing Tai Lung away with the Force. Tai Lung dug his claws into the purple brick of the fortress, and when Revan ran out of mental stamina, Tai Lung strung forward and drove a finger into Revan's stomach. The Jedi felt his muscles tense, and he fell backward.

Tai Lung was going to continue fighting Revan when Ty Lee landed on his head in a handstand. He grinned up at her evilly and tried to grab her, but she leaped away. He followed her at speed.

Revan watched on as Ty Lee and Tai Lung bounced around the hellish landscape, each dodging the other's blows. Neither could get close enough to land a hit.

Revan struggled to move himself, but whatever Tai Lung had done to him, it was effective. Revan strained his muscles for a few moments before changing tact. He focused and easily lifted himself into a standing position with the Force. He released his grip and promptly fell over again.

Admitting to himself at being vertical wasn't that much of a priority, Revan focused his concentration elsewhere. He found the nearest block that was on fire, lifted it out of the ground, looked towards where Tai Lung was about to jump, and flung it.

Tai Lung saw a flaming chunk of hell pass just in front of his face, and was understandably surprised. He adjusted his trajectory to dodge it and landed awkwardly on the roof of the Nether fortress. He turned around just in time to see Ty Lee jab a finger into his unharmed shoulder and backflip away.

Tai Lung lost feeling in his arm, and found himself unable to move it. "Haha, **impressive**!" he laughed. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

He ran after her, tucking his now useless arm behind his back. He easily caught up to Ty Lee.

Meanwhile, Revan pushed himself slowly toward the conflict. He threw a few more blocks haphazardly towards the two, hoping more to cause a diversion than actually strike Tai Lung.

Ty Lee was so focused on avoiding the angry snow leopard tailing her that she failed to notice a block speeding towards her until it was almost too late. She caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye, turned, yelped, and ducked under the block, which passed just above her nose.

"Hey! Watch it!" she yelled to Revan.

A variety of witty retorts appeared in Revan's head. He chose one of the coarser ones.

Ty Lee turned her attention back to Tai Lung. Her eyes widened when she saw he was almost right next to her. He went with an underhanded swing, his fist curving up towards her. Ty Lee deftly jumped towards him, grabbed his wrist, and used the momentum of his arm to propel herself upwards. She landed, hands first, on his left shoulder. She used one hand to disable this arm as well, which caused her to fall off of him and on to the mauve brick below.

Tai Lung experimentally tried moving both arms, and let out what sounded like an amused sigh. He then grabbed Ty Lee's leg with his toes, threw her upwards, jumped, spun in midair, and kicked her heavily in the stomach. The circus girl bounced away on the rough roof of the fortress.

"You call this an impediment?" asked Tai Lung mockingly, using his head to indicate his two defunct arms. "I call this _**training**_."

Ty Lee backed up on her hands and feet. She gasped when her hand met empty air. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that instead of ground there was a several storey fall behind her. Ty Lee couldn't see the bottom, her vision being blocked by dark fog. She turned her head back and smiled at the snow leopard. "Uh… truce?"

Tai Lung chuckled. "Cute. But regrettably I don't think I can accept."

Ty Lee saw that behind Tai Lung, Revan was amassing a large wall of blocks. He lifted his head as though with an invisible string and nodded awkwardly to Ty Lee. She looked up to Tai Lung, still approaching her slowly, and commented "You're awfully friendly for someone about to kill me!"

"I appreciate a good battle," he replied. "It's truly a shame I have to do this."

"My thoughts exactly," smiled Ty Lee sadly. She threw herself towards Tai Lung and stabbed a finger into the side of both of his legs. As he fell down, Ty Lee rolled away from him.

Stubbornly, Tai Lung twisted his shoulders around so that he was facing Ty Lee again. "No limbs? **No problem!**" he shouted.

He started making determined but slow progress toward her using only his torso. He didn't get far before he was shunted off the fortress by Revan's wall of blocks. His eyes locked with Ty Lee's as he plummeted down, until he fell out of sight.

Ty Lee stood and ran over to Revan. "You alright?"

"Yes," said Revan bluntly. "I'm fine. Nothing wrong here. I'm just _dandy_."

"Oh, okay. I thought I might have to un-paralyze you, but I guess not." Ty Lee's smile was so innocent he honestly wasn't sure if she was returning his sarcasm or was taking what he had just said at face value. Regardless, he sighed and said "Fix me, Ty Lee."

"Sure!"

##

Meta Knight stood proudly at the helm of his vessel. He was glad that despite the strange situation, he was still in control. He was still captain.

He turned to see a large crowd had assembled in the bridge, a room reserved strictly for the important running of the ship, and were chatting casually as though waiting for entertainment. He was about to demand an answer when what they were waiting for became clear.

In the centre of the room, at a point the crowd had gathered around, two awkwardly entangled figures burst into being – a cloaked man, and a young girl pulling the muscles of his arm.

"Oh," said Ty Lee. "Hi!"

"Master!" cried HK-47, as excited as a droid could be. He pushed through the crowd and stood by Revan.

"I take it this person is your original owner?" postulated Clank from within the crowd.

"Answer: That is correct," answered HK. "And may I add I am most pleased to see him!"

"Good to see you too, HK," greeted Revan. "Now help your Master stand up."

"So you two know each other?" asked Ty Lee. "That means that I should…" She trailed off as she scanned the crowd. "Hey!" she said, spotting Aang. "Hi, Mr Avatar sir!"

Aang blinked in surprise, but returned her smile. "Hey, Ty Lee."

"Always nicer when people know each other," remarked Sly. "But I have to point out that there's only two of you…" Everyone assembled knew what that implied.

"A woman named Kuo," said Revan, as he leaned on HK-47. "...Fell into some lava."

"Ouch," grimaced Sly. Cole's eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Come on, Ty Lee," snapped Revan. "I'd like to walk some time this month. And I'd prefer to get myself back in shape in private."

HK-47 dragged Revan out of the room, Ty Lee following behind him.

"I wonder what happened to Tai Lung," she said. "I hope he's okay."

Revan rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he's just fine," he replied sarcastically.

* * *

It was a few minutes earlier. Scar and Loki sat on the bottom blocks of the obsidian portal, staring dismally into the sea of lava. Walls enclosed them on three sides, and the lava on the fourth, making exploration impossible. They would have re-entered the portal, had a horrific flying monster not spat a fireball at it, deactivating it. After cowering and waiting for it to leave, the two deceitful princes found themselves at a loss.

"This is _not _an improvement," muttered Scar.

"Indeed."

"It's too hot," he complained.

"That it is."

"And such horrifying fauna!"

"You won't find an argument from me."

"Even the space station full of corpses was more fun."

"I fear what you say is undeniably true."

Scar sighed. He wished for something to break up the monotony. His wish was abruptly granted when a huge grey blur flew from above and slammed into the ground just in front of them. Scar scrambled behind Loki, who thrust his broken staff in front of his own torso protectively. When the lump remained still, the two relaxed.

Scar approached it and sniffed it cautiously. "I think he's dead."

Loki looked the mass over. "Ugly beast, isn't he?" he remarked, pulling out the golden sword embedded in its shoulder.

"Who are you calling ugly?" demanded the lump.

Loki started, dropping the sword. "You said it was dead!"

"I said I _thought_ it was dead!" said Scar, backing up quickly.

Tai Lung flipped himself over with much difficulty. He glared at the two princes. "A little help?"

"What... seems to be the problem?" asked Loki, as politely as he could.

"Paralyzation. I need you to pop me back into place."

"Oh," said Loki, "of course." He turned to Scar. "After you."

"What? Oh, no. You're the one with thumbs, as you're so fond of reminding me. You do it."

"Someone do it," growled Tai Lung, "or I will kill you, very slowly and with great difficulty. It won't be fun for anyone."

"Sounds terrifying," said Loki. "We have no use for a brute such as yourself. Come, Scar." Loki turned on his heel, as though there was another place he could conceivably walk to.

"**Fine!**" said Tai Lung. "Abandon me here! Just like everyone else would."

Something in Tai Lung's tone made Scar pause. "Abandon you, hmm?"

"Yes."

"But, shouldn't someone – say, your father – put a stop to such things?" asked Scar pointedly.

"I have no father!" snarled Tai Lung. "And the man who served as my father failed me."

Scar looked to Loki. Loki rolled his eyes and turned back to Tai Lung.

"Very well. We'll help. But I hope you like this realm, because we can't leave it."

"How did you get here?"

Scar nodded to the portal. "It broke when fire touched it. Perhaps more fire would re-activate it, but we can't test that, can we?"

"Why not?" asked Tai Lung.

Scar and Loki shared a glance. "We have no fire," Loki explained, as though speaking to a dull child.

"There's a whole ocean of lava right there," pointed out the leopard.

"But... we... what?!" coughed Scar.

"Un-paralyze me, and I can just pick up the lava and fix the portal."

"_Pick_ up," said Scar.

"The _lava_," said Loki.

"Yes. Pick up the lava."

Again, the princes shared a look.

"Impossible," said Scar.

"Undoubtedly," agreed Loki.

And with that they set to work helping their new friend.

* * *

_**Friendship amongst kindred spirits is something that really eases one's soul. But not quite as much as being inundated with reviews for a story you spent months writing.**_


	14. Day 13: Just According to Keikaku

Latveria is a nation as strong and independent as its ruler, Victor von Doom. Its capital, Doomstadt, is its centre, mostly because it is the site of Doom's spectacular castle. From there, he brought the country from the bottom tier to the top in the global economy in a matter of years. It is for this reason that the architecture of Latvaria reflects the Europe of centuries ago, yet the citizens enjoy a lifestyle equipped with all modern benefits.

A man strode through its streets. In another place, a large top hat, orange sweater, and black jacket may have raised both questions and eyebrows, but as it happens such was the style in Latvaria at the time, and as such the man did not stand out that much. The same could not be said of his companion, a young boy dressed unusually. A large pair of red goggles sat on his brown pilot's hat, and a breeze ruffled his striped green scarf.

"Seems a bit pointless asking people for information, what I can just read their minds," he remarked.

"While I don't doubt your abilities," replied the professor in his soft voice, "I can't help but feel that that would be something of an invasion of privacy. We'll stick to the usual method information gathering for this puzzle, if you don't mind."

Raz shrugged. "Alright. I'm here if you need me."

"**Halt**," boomed a robotic voice behind them. Professor Layton and Raz turned to see three robots, built in the image of Dr Doom. "**Present ****your ****paperwork ****immediately**," cited the centre one.

Raz and Layton shared a look. "I'm dreadfully sorry," apologised Layton, "but I appear to have misplaced it."

The robots raised their hands, revealing weaponry embedded into the palms. "**Surrender ****for ****torture**," one demanded.

"I say," frowned Layton.

Raz lifted his finger to his temple and blasted one robot's head off with a mental bullet. Layton dived out of the way of a laser fired at him, rolling smartly upon landing. Raz managed to set another Doombot on fire before the last struck him, knocking him backwards.

The Doombot turned its attention, and weaponry, to Layton. It was about to fire when it abruptly found itself lacking a head. A loud shot had rung out on the square, and a bullet had ripped through the Doombot's face. It collapsed as Raz climbed to his feet.

Their saviour hefted his weapon, a large silver pistol. He reached into his red vest and pulled out some bullets to replace the shots he had spent.

"A most timely assist, Mr Burton," thanked Layton. "Although I do find your methods somewhat brutal."

Barry frowned at them through his ginger beard. "They're just _robots_, _Layton_." His inflections were strange.

Layton looked displeased. "Robots can have feelings, too."

Barry Burton gave him a quizzical look. "If you _say so_. What have you _gathered_ about finding _Kira_?"

Layton gestured to the huge castle which dominated the town's skyline. "From the sounds of things, our best bet is that building. The usual ruler resides there, and Kira could co-ordinate himself or herself nicely from that location."

Burton cocked his pistol. "Then what are we _waiting for_? Let's _go_."

##

From a darkened room in Castle Doomstadt, a young man with light brown hair and smart clothing watched a computer monitor. It displayed a feed from a camera near to where Layton, Barry and Raz were talking. His eyes brown narrowed.

"_This Layton man is intelligent_," Light monologued internally. He smiled thinly. "_I guess it's too much to hope for that his first name is 'Professor'. In fact, none of these fools have mentioned their full names in the presence of a camera, so the Death Note isn't an option yet_." His face darkened as his finger idly tapped the black notebook which had given him so much power. "_Especially since however I got here, Ryuk didn't follow me. Now would be a good time to have Shinigami around to explain things_."

He stood. "_The Doombots proved ineffective. I could keep trying things the physical way, but it's not my area_." His face twisted into a grin. "_No... Let's keep things how they usually are. You want a puzzle, Layton? I'll give you a puzzle you won't forget_."

* * *

Revan forcefully strode down the hallways of the Halberd. He was only exploring the ship, but from his confidence, he acted as though he owned it. HK-47 was behind him, glaring protectively at everyone they passed. Also with him was Ty Lee. The cheery girl looked incongruous beside the grave figure in black.

"So, Ty Lee," said Revan, turning a corner. "Tell me more about this Avatar we saw yesterday."

"Oh, he's great," said Ty Lee. "Like I said, most benders can only bend one element, but he can bend all four, sometimes all at once!"

"Hmm, yes. I was referring more to the "glowy thingy" of which you spoke."

"Oh, the Avatar State?"

"Yes. That."

Ty Lee frowned nervously. "Well, I only saw it once. His eyes and tattoo go all bright, and he starts breaking everything. I heard he once took out an entire navy like that."

"Fascinating," breathed Revan.

"Statement: such destructive power is greatly admirable," stated HK. "I am almost jealous."

"But he only goes like that when he's really, really mad..." she added.

Revan tapped his mask thoughtfully. "Which, considering his carefree and pacifistic nature, would presumably take a lot of doing."

"So, why do you want to know?" asked Ty Lee, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Oh, no reason. I just find the subject interesting."

Revan came to a door near the bridge and pushed it open. Inside were Iroh, who smiled at Ty Lee, Bentley, who examined Revan, Phoenix, who blinked at HK-47, and L, who coolly regarded all three. They were sitting around the table as usual. There was a large chair at the head of the table that no-one had claimed. Revan strode up to it and settled himself in.

"Is this where we discuss tactics?" queried Revan.

"Well... I suppose," answered Iroh guardedly.

Revan leaned forward. "Marvellous. You may leave us," he added, addressing his companions outside the boardroom. HK-47 dutifully closed the door.

"That guy gives me the heebie-jeebies," shivered Ty Lee.

"Statement: I know," stated HK. "Isn't it wonderful?"

* * *

Layton stood in the main throne room of Castle Doomstadt, striding back and forth. The staff of the castle were arranged in a nervous line in front of him. The ruler was apparently absent, so only the scant domestic staff were present. Behind him, Barry leaned against a wall, watching him think, and Raz stood unnervingly still, his goggles pulled down.

Layton had determined that any of the staff could be the one known as Kira. Some seemed more obvious than others. However, the entire setup – how easily they had entered the castle, the way the staff had gathered without protest... everything slightly seemed off to him.

At that moment, Layton heard Raz's voice, but not with his ears. He did his best to show no reaction.

"_Alright professor, I've given everyone in the room a look,_" said Raz, his words clear in Layton's mind. "_Your mind was a good starting point. It was very orderly._"

"_Still not the strangest compliment I've received,_" replied Layton.

"_From there, I was able to get a feel of all the minds in the room. I caught a glimpse of Barry's mind. Dude really likes his sandwiches._"

"_Have you any... _other _conclusions_?"

"_Well, none of the people here seem that crazy – or at least, not any crazier than usual. But I'm picking up a mind nearby that's sending me weird signals_."

"_Indeed?_"

"_Hold on a second._" Layton heard nothing for a few moments, but then Raz's voice returned. "_Wow, okay, yeah, I think I found him. Unless a mind full of equations, clocks, Latin chanting and apples is normal for this place._"

"_It appears we have our man._" Layton gave a meaningful nod to Barry, who stood upright.

"You can all _go_," he said to the staff. "We'll call you again if we _need you_."

"_I'm going to go further in_," Raz added. "_Maybe I can find out more about him..._"

##

Light smirked at the visual feed from the throne room. It was a simple opening skirmish to what he knew may be a very lengthy war. Everyone in the castle had gathered in front of Layton except, obviously, Light himself. Light would judge Layton's intellect based on how he handled this. He knew that Layton couldn't determine Kira's identity by any normal means, and thus Light would have plenty of time to plan his next move. He hadn't failed to notice Raz's strange behaviour, and he wondered what the boy was doing.

Suddenly, he became all too aware. Light was an insular man whose mind was always working at full capacity. Thus, when an alien presence entered his mind, he became aware of it instantly.

"_WHO'S THERE!?" _he thought, panicking. Raz yelped, surprised by Light's immediate reaction. The point of a Psychonaut was that one could enter minds undetected; he had never met someone who had become aware of him instantly.

Raz hurriedly gathered as much information on Light and his location as he could, before retreating as quickly as he had invaded.

Little did he know it had been a two way process.

##

In the throne room, Raz tore off his goggles. "I know where he is!" he said urgently. "He's upstairs, that way," he pointed towards a door. "He knows I tried to read his mind, so we have to go quickly."

Layton nodded. "Understood."

The three began sprinting down the corridor Raz had indicated. As they ran, Raz filled them in on what he had briefly managed to gather.

"He's a young man, named Light Yagami," he said. "Japanese, I think. Really deluded about himself. He kills..." Raz suddenly stopped both speaking and running.

"What's wrong?" asked Layton.

"We have to _keep moving_!" urged Barry.

Raz fell forward, clutching his chest. He collapsed to the floor as Layton ran back to him. Layton checked his pulse and his eyes widened.

"My word," he said softly. "He's dead."

"Then _get up_," said Barry stoically.

"You want me to just leave him here?" asked Layton, incredulous.

"We'll _come back_ for him," said Barry pointedly, "when we've made that _bastard_ Kira _pay_."

"Your point is poorly expressed, but completely valid," murmured Layton as he stood. "Kira is most likely the one responsible for this. And the longer we stay here, the more time we afford him to escape."

With that the two broke into a run again, leaving Raz behind them.

* * *

Tai Lung sat placidly on the roof of Maleficent's castle, examining the stars. There was a noise behind him as someone joined him, but the leopard didn't turn around. Dr Horrible walked beside him.

"Mind if I sit here?"

Tai Lung grunted. "Who am I to stop you?"

The Scientist sat down and the two were silent for a while.

"Can I ask you a question?" said Horrible.

Tai Lung growled. "For the last time, my name is Tai Lung. That is my name. Tai is not my first name, nor Lung my second. My first name, which is also my only name, is comprised of two words, which are Tai and Lung."

"I've... got that. I just want to know how you're... uh... doing."

Tai Lung turned slowly and gave him a withering look. Just when Horrible was about to apologise for speaking, his expression softened and he returned his gaze upwards. "To be honest, doctor, I'm not sure."

"Not sure?"

"That's what I said," growled Tai Lung. "I feel... directionless. Have you ever had a goal, doctor? One to which you devoted your entire being?"

"Yes," replied Horrible softly.

"Then you should appreciate my position. I'm left with nothing, merely wondering what is going on."

"Exactly!" agreed Horrible. "And to be honest, I'm kinda uncomfortable here. I mean, this building we're sitting on is full of murderers."

"I suppose that's true. Then again, two of those murderers dragged me to safety, so I'm in no position to complain. Besides," Tai Lung smiled thinly, "aren't we all murderers here?"

Horrible couldn't quite read the leopard's expression, so he just grunted non-committally. Tai Lung was about to go on when a voice came from behind them.

"There you two are," said Scar. "I was wondering where you had gotten to."

"Hello, Scar," said Horrible. Scar came up to the Scientist and planted a paw on Horrible's shoulder, leaning over him to examine the lengthy distance to the ground.

"You know," whispered Scar in Horrible's ear, "we were much higher up back when I did it."

"Did what?" asked Horrible, although he had a feeling he didn't want to know.

"When I pushed my own _brother_ to his _**death**_**!**" Scar suddenly roared, and pushed at Horrible's shoulder. The doctor yelped and flailed his limbs, but Scar hadn't actually intended to kill him; he had merely shaken him. Now the lion was enjoying a lengthy fit of evil laughter.

"That's not funny," scowled Horrible. Tai Lung rolled his eyes.

"A shame Loki wasn't here to see your face," laughed Scar. "Ah, the simple pleasures in life. Come along, Tai Lung." Scar left the roof. Tai Lung stood up to follow him, but paused.

"What do you think we should do?" Horrible asked him.

Tai Lung watched the middle distance. "Perhaps, for now, we should find some new goals."

Tai Lung followed Scar. Horrible, with a sigh, trailed behind him.

* * *

Light stood in one of the higher rooms of Doom's castle, anxiously hammering away at a large computer console. In the centre of the room stood one of Doom's circular dimensional portals. Light had seen in Doom's notes that they was one of the more effective escape routes. Fortunately, it had been close to Light's position. Unfortunately, it was also close to his opponents'.

"_Dammit! Why won't this thing work?!_" Light yelled internally. He watched furiously as a digital progress bar slowly inched up towards 100%.

"Aha!" Light heard Layton speak from the corridors outside. "The only direction he could have gone was… this way!"

Light realized he was backed into a corner, at least momentarily. "_I've got nowhere to run until this damn thing turns on, so I have to buy some time. There's no way I can talk things out after killing their friend… but they don't know __**how**__ I killed him. Maybe I can stall them long enough by bluffing as to just how far my status of God goes. Alright, that's what I'll do. It might be tough, but I'm going to have to act like a madman." _He tucked the Death Note away and walked to the centre of the room.

The professor and the STARS officer soon entered. Light whirled around violently, and Layton's eyes widened; Light's face was contorted into an twisted grin. Barry pointed his gun at Light, whose only response was to let out a peal of insane laughter.

"Wah hah hah hah _hah_!" taunted Light, who was doing less acting than he realized. "You expect to harm a _**god**_ with that measly thing?"

"If you're a _living thing_," snarled Barry, "then the answer is _yes_."

Barry fired his incredibly powerful weapon, and Light gasped in shock as the bullet ripped through his shoulder. Such was the force of the impact that the young genius was thrown off his feet and landed in a heap, facing away from the duo. The Death Note fell out of his jacket pocket and landed, open, in front of him, his body blocking Layton and Barry's view of the deadly object. He clutched his bleeding shoulder and howled in pain. So much for bluff.

Barry aimed his gun at the teen's head. "Some god. _You're_ pitiful!" he declared. "Now I'd better _finish_ the job."

"Just a moment!" protested Layton. "Is this necessary?"

"Are you _kidding_ me? You've seen what _this worm _has done!" yelled Barry. "Better to end him while we have _the chance_."

"But…" Layton frowned. "Surely there's another way to put a stop to him. Violence is only ever the most desperate of measures."

"And I'd describe _this_ as a _desperate time_!" countered Barry. "This _monster _killed Raz, and we don't even know _how_!"

"I'm well aware," snapped Layton, anger making a rare incursion through his politeness. "But it shouldn't be that difficult to find out how, especially with the man himself at hand. I implore you, holster your weapon."

"Sorry, _professor_. But we were told to defeat this man, and _Barry Burton's _definition of defeat involves shooting something until it _stops moving_."

While this argument was taking place, Light had been gritting his teeth and trying to tune out the wailing agony radiating from his wound. His eyes were closed tight in an attempt to help with this. When Barry mentioned his full name, however, Light's eyes shot open. A hint of a smirk struggled its way on to his face, and with his blood-soaked hand, he reached for the Death Note. He wiped most of his hand off of the ground, but left his index finger covered in blood.

"It's a simple matter of restraining him," Layton was saying. "However he performs his killings, I highly doubt it's telepathic. Besides which, were he capable of ending our lives, he would have doubtlessly done so by now."

"You know, I'm _half tempted _to shoot you _as well_. Just so that you'll _stop talking_."

At that moment, the portal activated with a flash of blue light and a sound similar to a crack of lightning. Layton and Barry were temporarily taken aback, but Light seized the opportunity. Scooping up the Death Note, he sprung up from the ground and sprinted for escape. Barry recovered quickly enough to fire a round into Light's side. The murderer was thrown off balance, but was close enough to the portal that he fell through nonetheless. The portal snapped shut behind him.

"_Damn_!" yelled Barry. "He _got away_." He turned to chide Layton further. By the time he was looking at the professor again, they were on the Halberd's bridge.

Barry raised his weapon, and Layton his eyebrows. Deadpool waved to both cheerily.

"Hey there! Welcome to the after-party!"

"This puzzle just gets more and more complex," murmured Layton. "Hello to your too, sir. My name is Herschel Layton. I'm a professor of archaeology at Hessengeller University."

Layton paused, waiting for his companion to introduce himself. Instead, all Barry made was an urgent, panicked grunt. His hand went to his chest, clutching weakly at his heart. He fell first on one knee, and then collapsed completely, his pistol clattering from his hand.

As heroes around the bridge panicked and leapt into action, prepared to battle an enemy they couldn't see, Layton was left staring at what Kira had wrought.

* * *

Light fell down on a hard stone floor, his wounds leaving him in excruciating pain. He managed to turn face-up, and was met with two horrifying white eyes staring into his.

"Hmm," murmured their owner. "It's all go, isn't it?" He drew back, and Light saw he was a muscular man wearing red. "Come on down, boys and girls!" he sang loudly. "We've got another one!"

Light dragged himself into a sitting position, biting back screams of agony as he did so. From the shadows around him, figures emerged, until he was surrounded on all sides.

There were eight in all, seven humanoid – however, it was hard to say if any were actually human. Light clutched the Death Note close to him, as though for protection.

"Wow," said Dr Horrible. "Look at all that blood."

"I didn't know there was that much in the human body," said Azula, perturbed.

"I did!" replied M Bison brightly.

"Kind of makes you hungry, doesn't it?" noted Scar.

Tai Lung grimaced. "That's disgusting, Scar."

"Just saying..."

"Where am I?" screamed Light.

"In trouble, that's where," smirked Loki evilly.

"Scrawny, is he not?" boomed Doom. "And clearly he was an inadequate foe to those who faced him," he added, referencing his wounds.

"I can trade!" said Light. He lifted the Death Note with difficulty. "I'll show you how to use this, in exchange for medical aid."

"Or," said Maleficent, "We could take it and leave you to rot." She gestured, and the Death Note was snatched from Light's hand by her magic. "Here, we only have time for those who surpass their chains," said Maleficent loftily. She examined the notebook with interest, and began walking back up to her personal room.

"Throw him in the dungeon," she called back to Bison. "I'm glad that it won't go to waste."

* * *

_**Yeah... I never really liked Light. But not as much as I dislike not getting reviews!**_


	15. 14: The Dead Should Be Allowed to Rest

The Medic has an unusual job, that much is undeniable. It still didn't make it any less confusing when he suddenly appeared in a seemingly abandoned city street. And he didn't feel any more at ease when, seconds later, he found himself staring down the barrel of a futuristic shotgun, held mere centimetres from his face.

"I'm going to ask you this only once," barked Sarge. "Red team, or Blue team?"

"Vhat?" asked Medic in his comically thick German accent, his eyes widening under his small glasses. "Oh. Right. Vun moment." He grabbed the sleeve of his white labcoat and pulled it so as to see the cross emblem stitched on to the shoulder. "RED team?" he reported.

"Ah, excellent!" said Sarge, relaxing immediately. He sounded like a typical drill sergeant. "That means whatever spacial whatsit hiccup that I seem to fallen into has landed me among men I can trust. Unless you're not a Red," he addressed the third man, "but I'm guessing you are from that snazzy coat of yours!"

Auron's age was evident in the streaks of grey which ran through his short black hair. However, his stance and the huge black blade he leaned easily on the top of his shoulder clearly implied he was still perfectly capable of combat. One arm held the aforementioned sword, the other he rested against his chest in a sling of sorts. He regarded Sarge over his round, darkened glasses, examining his red armour, the same general model as Tex's. "If I say I'm not a 'Red', are you going to shoot me?" he queried in a quiet, husky voice.

"Yep," answered Sarge cheerfully.

"Red team it is then," said Auron in a monotone.

"Fantastic! And now with that question of loyalty out of the way – seeing as you're all unquestioningly loyal to Red Team, and hence me – we can move on to the issue of _just in what in Sam Hill is going on here?!_" thundered Sarge.

"It's hard to say," said Auron quietly. "I doubt we can figure it out so quickly."

"God dammit!" swore Sarge. "I'm always surrounded by webs of intrigue far beyond my comprehension! Why can't anything just be as simple as 'Kill this guy'?"

"Funny you should mention zat," said Medic. "Look vat I just found in my pocket." He waved a letter in the air.

Auron took it and read the text. "We have to find someone named 'Revolver Ocelot' and defeat him."

"Excellent! I have a desperate craving to shoot something!" announced Sarge. "It almost feels like a monkey on my back."

Sarge realized that Medic was staring at him in horror, and Auron had readied his sword. "What?" asked Sarge. He followed their gaze and saw a small gangly zombie had latched on to his back. The zombie gibbered and pulled ineffectually at him, unable to move him due to the extra weight his armour afforded him.

"Sweet sassy mollassy!" Sarge exclaimed in surprise. Then he shot it.

More zombies poured out behind corners and from buildings, angered by the sudden loud noise Sarge's shotgun had produced. The Medic, Auron and Sarge hefted their weapons and stood back to back.

Medic giggled. "I _love_ Hallowe'en!"

* * *

Professor Layton was sitting despondently in a darkened and quiet storage room of the ship. His hat was pulled over his eyes as he considered his decision to argue for Light's life. The sight of Barry Burton collapsing to the floor was ingrained in his memory. He vainly formulated other plans of action for dealing with Light, which, with hindsight, worked with a useless perfection.

There was a gentle knock on the open door. Layton looked up to see General Iroh standing there, balancing a tray on his good hand. The tray bore a teapot and two cups, and Layton couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"I understand you're not feeling the best," said Iroh slowly. "It's my belief that a bit of tea can be very helpful at a time like this."

To Iroh's relief, Layton managed a smile. "I couldn't agree more."

Iroh let himself in and set the tray down on a crate. He poured Layton a cup, then himself. Layton sipped it.

"Interesting."

"Ginseng," said Iroh. "I brewed it myself."

"My thanks." Layton took a long drain of the cup. Iroh watched him drink for a few moments, before clearing his throat.

"Would you like to speak your mind?"

"Not especially," said Layton, "but I appreciate the fact it might do me some good."

He sat the cup down on a box and cleared his throat. Iroh watched him expectantly, with an expression is belied the fact he was used to helping others in this manner.

"Put simply, Yagami killed one of my newfound allies, who I may also state was a minor," said the professor ruefully, "and thanks to my decision, he managed to not only escape, but murder my second companion as well. I am, as you yourself say, not feeling the best."

"I'm sure you acted in what you thought was the best way," consoled Iroh. "Many times in life, we become burdened with regret. But regret only serves as a teacher, showing you not to make the same mistake twice. Dwelling on the past in sadness is a mistake in of itself."

"Wise words." Layton sipped his tea. "I imagine the others weren't overjoyed to hear how things went for myself and my team," he murmured.

"When L found out Light Yagami had escaped, he fell off his chair," recounted Iroh, smiling despite himself.

"Yagami is known as dangerous?"

"He is to L. He's very concerned of what he could be doing right now. Which is why he wants you to come to the boardroom and help us."

Layton looked up quizzically at Iroh. "He does?"

"Yes. He says that as the only one here to have faced Yagami, it would be very helpful to have you on hand."

Layton thought for a moment, then he stood up. "I'm more than willing to rectify my mistakes."

Iroh gave him a smile. "Then let's go."

* * *

The three men wandered aimlessly through the streets. Sarge took point, gleefully using his shotgun to separate zombies into their component parts. The Medic kept behind him, and the few zombies that didn't fall by Sarge's hand were taken care of by his bonesaw. Occasionally, a bizarre zombie would spring from a corner – the monster with a huge arm that grabbed Sarge and began beating him into the dirt, for example, or the zombie in the hood that had leapt across the street to pin the Medic to the ground. In these cases, Auron would swing once with his heavy sword, which usually resulted in the zombie being neatly cleaved in half. Then, the victim would dust themselves down, and they would continue. It was an effective arrangement.

"Well done, men," complimented Sarge. "We're making excellent time. It's just a shame we have no idea whatsoever where we're going."

"At the very least, I am almost fully charged," said Medic, gesturing to his Medigun. It was a device of his own invention, which looked like a fire-hose made of dark metal. From its barrel, it fired not bullets, but a curious beam of healing energy.

"That's... nice," said Auron levelly.

Medic ignored him, something catching his attention. "Look, up ahead. A hospital."

"You think there might be survivors there?" asked Auron.

Medic laughed. "Haha. No. But I would like to rifle through their equipment and records. This zombie plague is simply fascinating!"

"Rifle, you say?" asked Sarge. "I'm in!"

The entered the front door and dispatched the few zombies standing dully in the lobby. Ascending the stairs, they found themselves in a thin corridor. They stopped collectively upon seeing someone on the other side. He was still human.

He was an older man with long, grey hair and a weathered face. He wore a large brown overcoat over black clothing. On each index finger, he spun a Single Action Army revolver nonchalantly. "Hello there," he said. "I thought you might show up here eventually."

"Ocelot?" queried Auron.

"The very same."

"Vunderbar!" said the Medic. "Our search is at an end."

Ocelot holstered his weapons mid spin, and folded his arms. "Let's begin. But first, I have a few words."

Sarge readied his shotgun. "Make it quick."

* * *

Light wondered, idly, if he was stuck in some kind of nightmare of his own invention. Maybe all the killing had caught up to his conscience and the guilt had manifested itself... unusually. Perhaps that was the true cause of his wounds, which still screamed pain unendingly. It was preposterous to think that _**God**_ would feel guilty for making His new, perfect world, of course, but when Occam's Razor was applied, it was more likely Light had simply gone insane than he was actually in a magical tower's dungeon, being guarded by a talking snow leopard.

The dungeon was small, but it was large enough for its sole occupant. Light had been chained to the wall with two shackles on his wrists. He sat in a slight alcove carved into the stone. The room was dark in colour both naturally and due to the lack of light. Across from him was a thick wooden door. There was a barred window near the top, and it was through this that Tai Lung was grinning mockingly at him.

Light didn't look up, but he was well aware of his guard's expression. "What?" he said bluntly.

Tai Lung shrugged, leaning against the far wall. "It just amuses me, that's all."

"What does?"

"The fact that all that's holding you in place is two spindly chains and a door."

Light aimed his glare upwards so that Tai Lung could see it. "Are you some kind of escape artist or something?"

"You could say that," smirked Tai Lung. "If breaking out of a paralysing full-body cage at the bottom of a massive pit guarded by a thousand trained warriors, all specifically built for you and you alone, is artistic."

"Sure," replied Light, rolling his eyes. "And I once dated a well-known supermodel because she tracked me down and begged me to be her boyfriend. Claims are meaningless without proof."

"Guess that's why you aren't claiming to be able to break out of here, then," said Tai Lung.

Light was about to retort acerbically when Tai Lung looked away. He nodded humbly to someone, and then made an 'after you' gesture to the dungeon's door.

"He's all yours, Loki," he said. "He's _quite_ a conversationalist."

Tai Lung exited Light's field of vision, and Loki entered it. The Norse god examined Light loftily through the bars. He bade farewell to the snow leopard and waited until he had left.

"Don't pay too much heed to Tai Lung," he smiled. "After all, he was defeated by a mere child from the circus."

"Imagine that," said Light flatly.

"Normally, I love a good chat," continued Loki, "but I'm currently occupied with something else." He waved a golden sword in front of the small window. "Thus, you'll have to make do with me ignoring you completely."

"Oh no," said Light sarcastically, his bitterness evident. Loki laughed lightly and began examining his staff.

Once Loki's eyes had left him, Light had begun to silently strain his right hand through the cuff which entrapped his wrist. The irons were old and probably intended for someone larger than Light, and he eventually managed to squeeze his limb through, freeing it. He brought his expensive-looking watch up to his face. They hadn't thought to confiscate it. They were idiots.

Using his teeth, he pulled four times on one of the dials. A secret compartment of the watch opened out from the back. In it were two small items; a scrap of paper from the Death Note, and a pin. He grinned maliciously. Of course, just killing his guard was not, in of itself, an escape. Still, he felt that it was a good move. There would be one less person in the equation; perhaps he could even bluff his way out, based on his 'godly powers'.

Light sat both paper and pin on his lap, and then clicked the compartment back into place. He lifted his arm so that, in the half-light, it seemed as though he was still bound.

"You know," he said, "the other jailer had the decency to introduce himself."

Loki laughed, still inspecting his staff. "You're a demanding one, aren't you? Greetings. I am Loki, of Asgard."

"Loki? El-Oh-Kay-Eye? Is that your entire name?"

Loki's expression soured for a few moments. "Loki... Laufeyson," he said eventually, with little conviction.

"Interesting name," said Light. "I'm not familiar with it. What's the spelling?"

Loki gave him a quizzical look. "You're an odd one."

"So I'm told."

"Let's see... in the language most of the people here speak, it would be El-Ay-You-Eff-Ee-Why-Ess-Oh-En. Satisfied?"

"I am."

"Good. You're beginning to distract me, you strange little man." Loki returned to his work.

Light grinned internally. "_You're not going to finish whatever it is you're doing, Loki Laufeyson_," he thought. "_You're just too generous with the information you give out. You never know what people can do with your name nowadays_."

Once he was certain Loki was again ignoring him, Light took the needle and stabbed a finger on his trapped hand, drawing blood. He used this blood to scrawl Loki's name on the scrap of Death Note.

"_Enjoy your last 40 seconds of life_..."

Light counted mentally, eager to see his work unfold. He kept his eyes fixed on Loki.

Ten seconds passed.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Forty!

Fifty?

Sixty...

Light glared at Loki in confusion. Nothing happened. Loki didn't seem to be aware of anything effecting him, let alone a painful, lethal heart attack.

After three minutes, Loki gave a loud sigh. "I'm afraid I might need Doom's aid in repairing this," he remarked more to himself than Light. "As much as I baulk at the idea of an immortal like myself asking a mere _human_ for assistance."

It was at that moment Light knew for a fact he wasn't subconsciously torturing himself.

His subconscious wasn't this far-fetched.

* * *

"...and truly, we don't always know where we are, or why," Ocelot was saying as he strode back and forth, "but we will always presented with an objective, and we know in our hearts it must be completed."

Both Sarge and Medic shifted uncomfortably, drumming on their weapons.

"When is this idiot going to stop talking? I'm dying for some bloodshed over here!" hissed Sarge under his breath.

"He has been speaking for vhat seems like hours!" agreed the Medic.

"Hush," chided Auron. "I'm trying to listen to this."

"Furthermore," said Ocelot, which elicited an irritated groan from Sarge and the Medic.

"That's it! I've had it with this constant philosophising!" yelled Sarge. "You want a battle? Then fight like a man, Sally!"

"Our battle will have to wait, sergeant," replied Ocelot.

"Oh? And why's that?" said Sarge venomously. "Feel another speech coming on?"

"The reason is a little more... physical," said Ocelot, pointing to behind Sarge. The red soldier turned to see a huge zombie, mostly muscle, sprinting down the corridor at a terrifyingly fast speed.

"Well shit," said Sarge quietly. Then the zombie barrelled into him, sending him flying away.

Ocelot whipped out both revolvers and let loose on the zombie, but failed to slow it down. Medic began firing on it with his syringe gun, but only a few came out before the gun spluttered to a halt.

"Ach nein!" screamed the Medic. The Tank ripped out a hunk of concrete and threw it at the Medic. The German yelped, but Auron grabbed him and pulled him to safety.

Sarge picked himself up from where he had landed. "Don't worry, men!" he called confidently. "You'll notice its head is hilariously tiny! One blast from the old shotgun will set things right." He raised his weapon as the Tank charged at him. "Prepare to be Sarge'd, zombie mongrel!" He fired, and was met only with an anti-climatic click. He desperately tried a few more times, to no avail. "Dammit Grif!" he yelled. "Just because I'm in another dimension is no excuse for you to not ensure my shotgun is fully loa-" That was as far as he got before the Tank grabbed him and threw him again, bouncing him against the floor.

Auron and Medic watched this scene from a distance. "Ve are out of ammunition!" wailed the Medic. "Ve can't kill the monster!"

"What about that 'charge' you mentioned?" said Auron.

Medic clicked two gloved fingers. "Of course!" He hefted the Medigun, which was now crackling with red electricity. He stood behind Auron and began using the device on him.

"What do I do?" asked Auron, shifting his sword on his shoulder.

"Run towards the beast," said Medic. "I'll handle the rest."

"Are you sure this will work?"

The Medic laughed gleefully. "I have **no idea**!"

Ocelot was firing meticulously aimed shots which ricocheted impressively around the surroundings and then embedded themselves anti-climatically into the Tank's flesh, to no effect. The oversized zombie roared and thrashed. Sarge, out of bullets, had undertaken what was to him the only reasonable course of action. When the Tank's back was turned, he leapt on top of it, and wrapped his arm around its neck. With his other hand he clubbed the Tank on the stock with his shotgun.

"Take that, undead scum!" he yelled triumphantly, as the Tank unsuccessfully tried to throw him off. "Maybe next time you'll mutate some muscle mass on your skull!" The Tank howled and tried crushing him against a wall.

"Aus, aus!" said Medic, hurrying Auron. "Before your heart explodes!"

"What?!"

"Nothing, nevermind! It's probably fine!"

Auron ran at the Tank, his coat flowing behind him.

The Tank saw them approach and snarled. It grabbed Ocelot by the neck and threw him at Auron. Before impact, Medic flicked a switch on the side of the Medigun. Auron heard a sharp, electrical crack, and his vision quite literally went red. Ocelot slammed against them, but Auron barely felt the impact. Stepping over him, he continued to charge at the Tank.

From the Tank's back, Sarge watched in awe as Auron and Medic ran towards the zombie. Due to the Medigun's effects, both were completely covered in a film of red.

"My God," said Sarge quietly. "It's so beautiful!"

The Tank beat its fists against Auron, to no effect. The swordsman swung his blade once and cleanly decapitated the zombie, sending its overgrown body sinking limply to the floor. Sarge released his tight grip and slid down as Auron and the Medic began to flash red, and then return to their usual colour schemes.

"That's quite a gadget you have," noted Ocelot, who was standing up. "I'll take it."

"The device is not for sale," replied Medic stoically.

"Heh," said Ocelot. "Sale." He raised a revolver and shot Medic in the chest.

As the Medic fell backwards, his grip on the Medigun loosened and it clattered to the floor. He was already dead by the time he hit the ground. Redness pooled through his white coat.

Auron and Sarge both leapt into action. Auron was slow to move, but Sarge had time to pick up the Medigun as he sprinted towards Ocelot.

Ocelot fired to either side, the bullets ricocheting around the thin corridor. Many struck Sarge's armour, but he didn't slow. He caught up to Ocelot and smacked him in the face with the Medigun, breaking the device slightly. Ocelot lost his balance and fell against a wall.

When he looked up again, Sarge was crushing his Single Action Armies while Auron held his large sword against Ocelot's throat.

"Do I have time for last words?" asked Ocelot.

"Here're some words for you, you bastard," replied Sarge, discarding the small guns. "'Shut your damn mouth'."

##

Auron and Sarge appeared on the bridge, the latter holding the Medigun.

"We just keeping falling deeper," murmured Auron.

"At least this place seems a little friendlier than the last one," said Sarge. He failed to hear the heavy footsteps bearing down on him until a meaty hand grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into a wall.

"_**Soldier**_**!**" roared Heavy. He pointed accusingly to the Medigun. "**Where did you get this?!**"

"Let go of me, Ruskie," growled Sarge. "You won't be the oversized first sack of flesh I've beaten to death today."

"**Just try, little metal man! I will **_**crush**_** you like **_**soda can**_**!**"

"Calm down," ordered Auron. His tone was quiet, but powerful. Heavy fixed him with a glare, but waited for him to continue. "It belonged to a team-mate," explained Auron levelly. "Called himself 'The Medic'."

"Where is he now?" asked Heavy.

"I'm afraid he's dead," replied Auron.

Heavy glared at Sarge, then released him. His breathing was deep and agitated. He abruptly stormed out of the room, pushing aside those in his way. Sarge and Auron watched him go.

"Um," said Deadpool. "So... hello?"

* * *

_**Heavy is sad. Not unlike I am when I don't get reviews. I really don't want to have to crush you all like soda cans. I'm not very physical.**_


	16. Lion King 15: Sarcasm and Meat

The sun shone as brightly as it ever did on the Pridelands. Herbivores of various sizes and shapes grazed calmly on long grass in the plains and in the savannah, fully accepting of the fact they were all possibly mere moments from death. Pride Rock stood majestically in the horizon, its angular silhouette standing proudly against the rising orange sun.

This was made to seem all the more lovely from the outside view of the kingdom offered by the Outlands. The Outlands had no grass, nor animals to graze upon them. There was little food, and less water. Even the sun was less present, which contributed to the lack of foliage. The only lifeforms who were abundant there were incests, and not especially cuddly insects at that.

The Outlands are by no means a pleasant place to suddenly find oneself with two strangers, but this is precisely what happened to yet three more heroes.

The first was a tall, muscular man with long blond hair and a slight beard. He wore Nordic armour with a flowing red cape, and in one hand he easily carried an heavy-looking hammer. He whirled around upon arrival, scanning his surroundings. Then he hefted his hammer and scowled at the two others near him.

The main focus of his attention was a bipedal fox wearing a grey jacket and green trousers with a red scarf tied around his neck. A variety of technological items were clipped to his belt, but the first one he reached for was his blaster. He wore a headset comprised of thin metal bars which provided him a green glass pane covering his right eye.

Standing between the two others was a young man not yet out of his teens. His dark hair was pulled back into a warrior's haircut. He wore blue clothing which seemed more suited for colder climates, and his eyes were a similar hue. When faced with a large hammer and a futuristic blaster, he hurriedly pulled out his most advanced weapon; a boomerang.

"Okay," said the teen, masking his quite reasonable fear. "Let's just relax. I'm sure there's a perfectly scientific explanation for all of this."

"Seems more like magic to me," said the blond man. His accent matched his armour. "And dark magic indeed!"

"Either way," said the fox, quite calmly considering the situation, "I'd quite like an explanation."

"Who wants to lower their superior weaponry and talk things out?" asked the teen hopefully.

The fox's green eyes scanned him briefly. "I will if you two will."

"I shall trust your honour," said the blond darkly. "But know that if this is deceit, I will be very, very angry."

"Understood," squeaked the teen. Hammer, blaster and boomerang were all lowered at simultaneously slow rates.

"There, that's better. I'm Sokka, by the way," said the young man in blue.

"Fox McCloud, leader of the Starfox team," said the fox.

"And I am Thor Odinson, of Asgard," said blond man proudly, a smile creeping on to his face. "And if you do not recognize me, I've surely travelled far."

"I think we all have," agreed Sokka. "Where I come from, there are no talking space foxes."

"Are there not?" asked Thor. "What a strange world you have."

"Actually, we don't even have foxes."

Thor gave him a bewildered look. "And yet, you know what they are."

"Can we focus, please?" said Fox pointedly. "Usually if something like this happens, there's a reason behind it. Check your person for clues."

Thor checked the few places on his armour which served as pockets. He smiled at Fox. "You seem to be an old hand at this."

Fox shrugged. "You could say that."

Sokka fished a hand into a pocket, his tongue out, and hit something unusual. He pulled it out to see a piece of paper. "Hey, a note." Thor grabbed it from Sokka's hand, more from curiosity than spite. Fox in turn snatched it from Thor, who promptly took it back and held it above his head. Fox jumped to get it, and Thor grabbed his shoulder and forcibly grounded him. Thor then looked upwards and read vertically.

"There is a knave here by the name of Dr Insano," recounted Thor.

"What," Sokka said flatly.

"And we must best him in combat!" continued Thor, pleased with this instruction.

"Great," said Fox. "One question. Where is he?"

Thor shook his head. "It doesn't say. Merely somewhere... here."

They took a few moment to examine the vast African landscape.

"Whatever about finding this guy," said Sokka, as he kicked a termite off of his shoe, "can we at least go somewhere less insecty?"

"I second that motion," said Fox.

"Come! Let us waste no more time in searching for this 'Dr Insano'!" proclaimed Thor enthusiastically.

"Another day, another megalomaniac scientist," sighed Fox.

* * *

"It's coming together," Zeke grinned to himself, looking into the wiring of the engine room. "I'll get him in to test it soon enough."

He casually glanced out into the hallway leading into the engine room and saw a lioness standing in the doorway quietly. She greeted him and Zeke started.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a talking lion," said Vitani irritably. "I'd rather skip that part. Which one of you is 'The Engineer'?"

The man in the yellow hard-hat turned around. "That would be me, ma'am."

"Dr McNinja would like a word with you."

Engineer shrugged. "Alrighty then. Hey Ratchet?"

"Yeah, sure, go ahead," came a voice from, as far as Vitani could tell, inside the ceiling.

"Lead on," gestured Engie. Vitani led him back through the corridors. They walked from the stern of the ship back towards the bow.

"What's this about, anyways?" asked The Engineer.

"Yesterday, the latest batch of people brought something called a Medigun. Thing is, they didn't bring the guy who had it, and we can't get it to work."

A look of realization dawned on the The Engineer. "Well, that explains what's gotten into Heavy."

Vitani gave him an expectant look, and Engie cleared his throat. "That gun was designed and owned by a team-mate, The Medic. The Medic and Heavy, they..."

Vitani waited for him to continue. When he didn't, it was her turn to realize something. "So, they... oh. Huh. Um, right. Well, that sucks. That the Medic's not here, I mean. Uh."

"I'm not going to comment on my personal thoughts on the matter," said the Engineer. "I just hope I can help y'all with the Medigun. I'm not sure I can fix up Medic's tech. Fella was crazier than a sacka ferrets."

"Well, Dr McNinja thinks you're the best hope for repairing it."

"Because I was his team-mate, right?" smiled Engie wanly.

"Uh... sure."

* * *

The hyena's snapping jaws were inches from Sokka's throat, held back only by his arm. Sokka grimaced, and with a great effort, he managed to kick the hyena off of him. The animal rolled and leaped at him, but Sokka brought his club down heavily on its skull in mid-air. The hyena muttered something in a Hispanic accent as it passed out.

Sokka stood there panting, and then yelled "You could have stepped in at any time you know!"

Thor patted his shoulder genially. "Yes, but you must learn to fight thine own battles. Besides which," added Thor with a smile, "while you got a good fight out of it, such a battle would be far too easy for myself."

"A _good _battle?!" exploded Sokka. "It nearly ripped my throat out!"

"Ah, but you didn't allow it," said Thor. "Therefore, you are proving yourself to be a formidable warrior."

Sokka slammed his palm onto his forehead, so hard that it left a mark. "Let's change the subject before I get angry enough to attack a god, because that's an outcome no-one wants. We should keep moving."

"Verily, but in which direction?" He raised his voice. "What can you see, Son of Cloud?"

Fox appeared over the lip of the huge, gnarled tree he had climbed. "Weird paintings," he reported.

"Of the _landscape_!" yelled Sokka irritatedly.

Fox considered this for a moment. "I'd say we head towards that giant rock. We've met more resistance as we've headed that way."

"So you want us to go get into more trouble?" asked Sokka dryly.

"Well, isn't that usually what happens as you approach the bad guy?" retorted Fox, jumping down to ground level.

"…Fair point, I guess."

"At the very least, the view from there should be helpful," concluded Fox, sliding down the trunk gracefully.

"And I'd wager most beautiful as well!" added Thor. "Very well. Onwards!"

* * *

Loki sat in the main room of the castle. With a few minor tools Dr Doom had begrudgingly loaned to him (after much ego-stroking on Loki's part), he was attaching the golden sword he had pulled out of Tai Lung to the remains of his staff. The two shades of gold clashed slightly, but such things happen. As he worked, he listened with an idle smile to the debate Tai Lung and Scar were having.

"No, but you see," Scar was saying, "my father ignored me for my entire childhood, and taught me nothing of kingship-"

"Which," rebutted Tai Lung, "is better than if you had spent every day of life training intently to become king, and only were snubbed at the last moment. Which is what happened to me."

Scar clicked his tongue. "I'm not sure. I mean, you got plenty of attention as a child. Encouragement, even."

"But it amounted to nothing!"

Loki, having successfully grafted the two pieces together, made to stab an imaginary person in the chest. He accidentally hit off a wall, and the metal dented slightly, eliciting a frown from the god.

"But anyway," muttered Tai Lung, "if nothing else, I can still beat you in a fight."

"Yes, you can. Because _your_ father figure spent years training you! I win."

Tai Lung glared at Scar. "He didn't train me to be a tricksy snake."

Scar treated Tai Lung to an oily grin. "My dear friend, you think I was trained in this art? It's innate, I assure you. Isn't that right, Loki?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes, it is. Excuse me," said Loki, standing up. "I think I need something a little stronger than a blowtorch to mend this. I'll be back shortly."

Scar shrugged. "By all means."

Loki took his now-pointier staff and began to ascend the staircase, as the two cats resumed their argument. Loki quickly arrived at a thick wooden door on the highest floor, and knocked politely with the blunter end of his staff.

Azula opened it, and gave Loki an empty smile. "Yes?"

Loki's smile was more convincing, although equally forced. "Hello there. May I speak to Maleficent?"

Azula gave a short sigh and stepped away, gesturing for him to come inside. Loki entered and saw the sorceress lounging on a spiked throne, intently reading the inside cover of the Death Note.

"'The human whose name is written in this note shall die'," she was reading aloud, softly. "Humph. How restrictive."

Azula rolled her eyes and coughed. Maleficent glanced up, and her eyes fixed on Loki. "What is it?"

Loki gave a sheepish nod to his weapon. "I was repairing my staff with what little material I have on hand-"

Maleficent nodded understandingly. "And gold is a terrible idea."

"Quite..."

Maleficent flicked her wrist and the staff flew to her gently. Loki went to grab it, but he made himself relax. Maleficent ran her hand over the new segment. Her palm softly glowed green, and the blade seemed to strengthen. "There," she said. "That should rectify any problem you have with it."

"My thanks," said Loki, bowing his head. He waited for Maleficent to return it, but she held on to it, examining it.

"It's an unusual metal, gold," she noted. "Very weak by itself. But an excellent vessel for magic. Some of the finest weapons are golden swords which are infused with a magical essence."

"Interesting. But to be frank, discussion of weapons very much depends on what side of the sharp end you're on," joked Loki.

Maleficent smiled thinly. "Yes, it does. Here." She floated the staff back to him, and he took it. "It was a _pleasure_ to help you. But spread the word that the next person to disturb my reading will find themselves spread thinly across the dungeon walls."

Loki's smile didn't waver. "But of course. Again, my thanks. Most kind of you."

Azula showed him out with a limited degree of grace. Loki descended the stairs to rejoin the discussion downstairs, stabbing several imaginary SHIELD agents as he went.

##

Azula clicked the door shut and turned back to Maleficent. The dark fairy was reading a rule about claiming ownership of the Death Note with particular interest. When Azula addressed her in order to get her attention, Maleficent glared up at her.

"What now?" she snapped. "Did you mishear what I just said?"

"I didn't," replied Azula, her smile thin, "but I'd just like to have your opinion on that plan I mentioned to you. You know, before you get too engrossed in your reading again."

Maleficent sighed haughtily and lowered the notebook. "Yes. I do like the idea. At least we'll be able to get _some_ use out of him... As I've said, run it by those tricksters downstairs. And be sure to inform everyone else. Doom will construct the device you need, if he is indeed as technologically gifted as he constantly claims. And of course, don't let _him_ know."

"Please," smirked Azula. "I may be young, but this is far from my first deception."

* * *

Atop Pride Rock, a man was hunched over some machinery, giggling. His eyes were obscured by thick goggles with a swirl pattern on the eyes. He wore a simple labcoat over medical scrubs, and his hair was long and brown. Around him, the pride of lions who made their home here were scattered haphazardly, unconscious or dying.

"You know, I never was much of a fan of the Lion King," he noted to one lioness who was failing to comprehend the strange man's words. His high-pitched, nasally voice suited his appearance well. "Don't get me wrong, it's a good movie, the soundtrack's nice, etcetera etcetera. It's just, you know, a little... - what's the word? Grounded? - for my tastes. The biggest thing that happens in it is the stampede, and everything else is just animals beating the everloving _crap_ out of each other. And while that's all well and good for some light entertainment, I usually enjoy my films to be a bit _grander_ in scope. Which is why I'm doing _this_! _**Nyehahahahah**_!"

Below, the three heroes stood at the bottom of the majestic stone structure, squinting their eyes to make out the white figure up on the promontory.

"What is he doing?" asked Fox, shielding his eyes against the sun.

"Whatever it is, I will end it quickly," replied Thor. He began to swing his hammer in a wide circle.

Insano heard them speak and peered down at them. "My, is that the Odinson?" he murmured. Then, he giggled manically. "Good thing I brought this then!" He picked up a cylindrical device. He flicked on a switch at the bottom and turned its dial to the maximum.

Thor released Mjolnir in an upwards direction. It flew, thrown by his strength, and to Sokka's shock, Thor followed it, attached at the wrist. He shot up towards Insano.

Suddenly, he lost velocity, as though his hammer had become mundane. He fell back the distance he had flown and landed heavily, slamming one palm on the ground.

"Ha! Not so tough without your magic, are you, Asgardian?" taunted Insano from above.

Thor lifted his palm to see blood had been drawn. The small cut didn't heal immediately as it should have. "What devilry is this?" he bellowed.

"My patented Anti-Magic Field Generator!" replied Insano. "Say goodbye to your flight and healing!"

Sokka blinked slowly. "I'll... be sceptical of that later. Right now, we have to stop him!"

"Agreed," said Fox. He ran up the slope towards Insano, moving at great speed.

Sokka drew his boomerang. "Stay there, Your Electricness," he said to Thor, following Fox. Thor scowled and wiped the blood on to his cape.

Fox quickly arrived at Insano's location, trying to ignore the unfortunate residents of Pride Rock who were scattered around, moaning in pain. "What is all this?" said Fox, pointing to the machinery littered around.

"Oh, nothing much," giggled Insano, his fingers twitching. "Just a little experiment in neurogeology. I'm seeing if I can bring this giant rock to life so that it'll be my lumbering, unholy assistant and will **crush** you for me!"

"What?!" yelled Sokka, who had caught up. "That's completely insane!"

"Well they don't call me Dr Mentally Well-Adjustedo, now do they?!" spat back Insano condescendingly.

"Enough! Eat boomerang, Crazy Science Man!" exclaimed Sokka, throwing said weapon.

"That's _Doctor_ Crazy Science Man to you!" corrected Insano. He produced a small plastic claw from his coat and caught the boomerang mid-flight.

Fox shrugged, and then shot Insano in the chest with his blaster. The Scientist stumbled back a few steps, snarled, and produced his own ray gun, returning fire.

"Sokka!" said Fox, ducking. "Go get the Anti-magic thing!"

Sokka ran ahead to the pile of Insano's equipment, picking out which device he needed. It was for the most part a gray cylinder, with a few dangling, brightly coloured pieces hanging off. At the bottom was a base, which bore a switch and a dial. A few lights dotted its surface, all of which were on.

As Sokka struggled to determine how to disable it, Insano noticed him. "Hey!" he yelled. "You want that, it's going to cost you $99.95!" He took his aim off of Fox and fired a blast at Sokka.

It's common courtesy in these situations, when you see an ally about to take a ranged projectile to the head, to throw yourself valiantly in the path of the bullet and take it for your team-mate. Fox did not do this for Sokka, but only because a better alternative was open to him thanks to technology. He clipped his Reflector off of his belt, activated it, and kicked it towards Sokka. The small white heptagonal device had a glowing blue centre, which sparked as it flew. Just as the blast neared it, the Reflector shot out a large, thin blue shield, which struck both Sokka and the blast. For Sokka, it felt like a slap to the face. For the blast, it was knocked back the exact direction it had come, and hit Insano in the chest, knocking him to the ground.

Sokka blinked, as though awakened. "Ohhh," he said with an air of realization. "I should just smash it." He produced his club and beat the device soundly until it flickered off. "Thanks, Fox!"

"No problem. You know, I would have just flicked the switch," the pilot replied, inexplicably catching his Reflector.

"Eh," replied Sokka. "Whatever works."

"I suppose..."

"Spinny Hammer Lightning Man!" yelled Sokka.

"Thor," corrected Fox in deadpan.

"Thor!" yelled Sokka. "Come on up!"

Insano groaned and lifted himself up. He looked up to see Thor hovering above him, swinging his hammer. Thunder boomed in the sky above them.

"What did you say of being 'tough'... Midgardian?" he asked, eyes narrowed.

"Ohhhhhh balls," swore Insano slowly.

##

Meta Knight stood on the Halberd's bridge, silently regarding the sand which filled the view of the main window. HK-47 stood to his left, and Clank to his right. Deadpool and his makeshift desk were behind him to the left, despite his protestations.

"We must somehow remove the ship from the sand," he mused. "But how?"

Before anyone could reply, Thor, Fox and Sokka appeared on the bridge. The latter still held Insano's Anti-Magic Field Generator. The three looked around the bridge curiously.

Meta Knight sighed wearily. "Does this happen every day?" he asked.

"Yep!" said Deadpool. "Exact same spot and everything, too. It's uncanny."

"Sokkaaaa!" came a voice from the door. Sokka turned just in time to see an orange blur before Aang caught him in a hug.

"It's great to see you!" he yelled. "There are tons of really cool people here! How was your place?"

"There were hyenas," said Sokka unsteadily, "and lions, and I saw a god kill a crazy Scientist with lightning." He pointed to the AMFG. "I'm going to put this down somewhere, and then I'm going to go scream at the sky."

"Okay," said Aang. "Oh, by the way, Ty Lee's here too."

Sokka thought for a moment. "I think I'll just start screaming at the sky now then."

* * *

_**I scream at the sky when people read new chapters without reviewing them.**_

_**This chapter is dedicated to GeminiGemelo, whose FF .net account will be one year old tomorrow. If you haven't read her stuff yet, go do so. I haven't the words to describe how fantastic it is. Happy Twiniversary!**_


	17. Day 16: A Time of Trial

Ravenholm is by no means a hospitable town. It wasn't particularly friendly before the shelling, and it certainly wasn't afterwards. The night was dark and cold, as ever.

A lone man strode through the empty, cobblestoned streets. The wind blew through his blond hair and ruffled his blue shirt. The moonlight glinted off the red-lensed goggles which sat passively on his forehead. He held a grey blaster with glowing red components.

His abnormally long ears detected an inhuman growl, and he quickly raised his weapon. A zombie came out from behind corner. Its white shirt was bloodstained and ripped in the centre, revealing a horrific mouth in its torso. A beige creature covered its head, so Jak couldn't see the mouth that snarled at him.

Jak fired his Morphgun and a cone of red energy burst from it. The zombie was thrown backwards and landed on the ground as a ragdoll.

Behind him, there was another shriek. Jak glanced behind to see another zombie, skin missing, leaping through the air towards him. He hadn't the time to shoot, but a barrel came flying through the air and hit the zombie dead on, killing it.

Jak exhaled as Murray jogged up to him. He had been saved by a throw from the large, pink hippo. His scarf waved erratically as he approached Jak. Murray's mask inexplicably rose with his eyebrows as he expressed concern.

"You okay, my new comrade in arms?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks," said Jak. His voice was gravelly. "These damn things are everywhere."

"Tell me about it," said Murray. "Even **The Murray** is suffering from trepidaciousness of the highest order!"

Jak stared at him quietly. "If you say so."

Murray turned around and started. One of the parasites, known locally as a headcrab, was right in front of him. The headcrab screeched and leaped at Murray, but its trajectory was upset by a fireball exploding against it. It missed and landed awkwardly, making loud pained noises. It tried retreating, but Jak shot it.

A man with excessive facial scarring walked up to join them. He brushed some dust off of his finely tailored suit, taking the care an artist would exercise when dealing with their own work. He gave Jak and Murray a warm smile.

"Fire seems to be effective... You two doing alright?" he asked.

"Just fine, Mr Bespoke!" said Murray bravely. "But, that said, your timely assist was most... timely."

"I'm glad," said Ghastly. "What about you, Jak?"

Jak checked his Morphgun for ammunition. "I'm fine. But I'll be better as soon as we get out of this damn place."

Ghastly nodded. "Then let's keep looking for Wyoming."

* * *

Spoony strode into the room Linkara had arranged to meet him in. It was a small room of little consequence located in the middle of the ship. Inside was a table, a chair, Linkara bent over said table, and Valkyrie Cain, the latter of whom met Spoony with a friendly smirk. The furniture showed no such enthusiasm at his arrival.

Spoony glanced around. "Well Linkara, I'm here. Question is, why are you?"

Linkara turned towards Spoony. On the table in front of him was Insano's Anti-Magic Field Generator. "Ah, there you are. I was hoping you could lend me a hand getting this thing back online."

"Why?" asked Spoony.

"Well, they don't need any help rewiring the engine room, and I decided to do something more productive than gawk at superheroes all day," replied Linkara. "Besides, if anyone's going to fix this, it's you and me."

"I guess," shrugged Spoony, "although I should point out that half the time I don't know what the guy's even saying, let alone inventing."

Linkara nodded. "Fair enough. It's just..." He opened the bottom with his Sonic Screwdriver, and beckoned Spoony closer. "What the Funk & Wagnall is that thing?"

Spoony peered in and follow Linkara's finger. "Oh, that's just the Blitzball-proofing device."

"Ohh!" said Linkara, finally understanding. Valkyrie, conversely, was only left more confused.

"Y'see," said Spoony, reaching into the machine, "that thing spins like a motherfucker, so if it's gotten loose, it's probably catching on something else..."

This continued for a few minutes, with Spoony and Linkara discussing terms which sounded distinctly silly to Valkyrie. She would admit her understanding of magic was still growing, but she had her doubts it could just be turned off by a machine the size of a shoebox.

"Um, I have a question," she said.

"Go ahead," said Linkara.

"How does that work?"

"How does it work, you may ask?" said Spoony in a mocking yet strangely accurate imitation of Insano's voice. "How?! **With Science, of course!**"

When Valkyrie gave him a blank look, Spoony shook his head. "Don't worry. I was pretty confused when I first heard about it, too. I've just learned to stop questioning."

After a few moments, Linkara was satisfied the device was fixed. "Valkyrie, you ready?"

"Sure," replied Valkyrie. She clicked her fingers with a flourish of her wrist and a fireball sprang into existence in her palm, waiting there harmlessly.

"Awesome," grinned Linkara. He turned. "Spoony, give 'er some juice."

Spoony flicked on the main switch on the bottom, and turning it to the lowest setting. Brightly coloured lights began to flicker on, one by one, as though the machine was waking itself up. Then, with a sudden surge, they all came on at once, and some of the dangling elements of the machine began to rotate.

As soon as this occurred, the fireball which had been sitting in Valkyrie's palm extinguished itself, leaving only a wisp of smoke. Experimentally, Valkyrie tried to push the air in the room, to no effect. Her efforts to curl shadows out of her ring were similarly fruitless.

"I'm not getting anything," she stated. "My magic's stopped."

"Looks like it works then!" responded Linkara happily.

Suddenly, a deep voice came harshly from the door.

"And just _what _is underway in here?"

The source of the voice was a vexed Meta Knight. His sword, usually merely a hilt while sheathed, he was now holding awkwardly, and his cloak, which normally had the ability to change mass and shape, sat on his shoulders as a thick lump of fabric.

"Um," began Linkara, sensing that this would lead nowhere pleasant, "well, there's this Anti-Magic Field Generator that I decided to fix, and -"

Meta Knight cut him off. "Turn it off." He was holding his temper, but only barely. Spoony leaned over, and flicked the main switch. Without power, the device soon deactivated.

Meta Knight's items returned to their previous state. He sheathed Galaxia and ruffled his cloak a bit, both to straighten out the cloth and to regain his composure. When he had calmed down somewhat, he stated clearly "I understand that the arrangement we have here is casual at best. However, I must order you, as ship's captain, not to turn that device on again."

"I'm guessing you were walking by and your stuff broke?" asked Valkyrie. "Sorry about that. We'll be more careful in future."

Meta Knight shook his head. "It goes much further than that." He gestured to the ship. "This ship, like most things on my planet, is heavily reliant on magic to operate."

"Wait," objected Linkara. "You mean to say the guys below deck are rewiring _magical _electrical circuits?"

"The Halberd's power systems are mostly Scientific," clarified Meta Knight. "But magic still plays a vital role in keeping the ship aloft."

"The bat wings?" queried Spoony.

"For one thing, yes. The point I'm driving at is that activating that device on this ship could possibly have catastrophic effects; effects I'm not willing to risk. As such, I'm ordering you - or, if you prefer, asking you - to disable that machine and not to trigger again."

Linkara took the generator, opened the side, and popped out the Raritanium battery with a flick of a screwdriver. "There we go, Sir Knight."

Meta Knight bowed. "My thanks."

The four filed out, walking separate ways. Linkara pocketed the battery and left the Anti-Magic Field Generator on the table, turning the light off as he shut the door.

* * *

In the end, escape had been pitifully easy.

As he had already found, the shackles were too large for him. Once he had one hand out, freeing the other was simple. The main problem was working out what do from there. It helped that guards came by ever more infrequently. Almost as if they didn't believe he could escape anyway.

"_Nothing good comes from underestimating Light Yagami_," was the thought that kept his spirits buoyed. "_**Kira**__ will have his glorious revenge_."

There was a hollow above the door where the wall seemingly caved in. Light tested it with a wooden stick lying on his cell's floor, and found it was indeed as weak as it looked. All he needed was a way to break it.

Testing his shackles, he found them stronger than the stone wall they were attached to. He tied one around the other and used the first, as well as some well-applied pressure from pulling on it, to drag second out of the wall. He was left with a metal chain ending with a chunk of stone; in essence, a flail.

"_Not the most elegant weapon, but it has the reach I need_."

Using the flail, he beat the hollow above the door until the stone gave way to air. With effort, he jumped, grabbed the bottom of gap he had made, and pulled himself through.

He collapsed on the other side, grinning at the cell's door from the side the free people go on.

"Kira... wins... again!" he cackled. As he stood, he laughed maniacally to himself.

Light's victorious air deflated when he was met with the figure of Maleficent, whose form seemingly solidified from the shadows. Azula stood just behind her, her face suppressing a smirk.

Light collected himself, straightened his back, and laughed loudly at Maleficent. "I did it!" he proclaimed. "_**I did it**_!"

Maleficent tilted her head slightly, a ghost of a smile on her face. "Did what?"

"Don't play dumb," Light grinned. "I surpassed my chains. I broke out of my cell. Just as planned."

Maleficent put on a confused frown. "I'm sorry?"

"**You said**!" yelled Light, and then continued in a more reasonable tone, "You said. I break out, you let me join your little group."

Maleficent's frown deepened. "I said no such thing."

Light's eyes widened. "Y... yes you did. You said that I should surpass my chains -"

"Which was a _metaphor,_" corrected Maleficent coldly. "And now, you've _actually_ broken out of your cell. You're not a recruit, you're a threat."

Light's stomach turned. "No," he said quickly. "We have a misunderstanding here. I'm sure -"

##

In the main room, Tai Lung and M Bison were sparring. Dr Horrible read a schematic of the transporter while Dr Doom faced away from him, working on a small device. Scar lazily watched Loki polish his staff. They vaguely realized no-one was watching Light, but no-one really cared enough to raise the point.

The air abruptly came alive with a blood-curdling scream of pure agony, which resonated from deep within the castle. Bison raised his finger to request Tai Lung to stop, and cocked his head like a connoisseur.

"Sounds like... burning," he said. "Yes. Definitely burning. Those are the noises of a man dying in fire."

"I don't know what's more disturbing, Bison," remarked Loki casually, "the fact you can tell that by sound alone, or the fact you're smiling."

"It seems as though our prisoner has met his fate," announced Doom, who hadn't even looked up. "**Doom** does not mourn. I disliked him."

"I'm confused," said Tai Lung, stretching. "What exactly is going on?"

"Ah, allow me to explain," smirked Scar. "I overheard Maleficent explain it to Azula. Do you recall how she vaguely implied to our... _guest_ he should try escaping?" Scar had paused for a moment, trying to find an insult, but all the ones which immediately presented themselves to describe Yagami – weakling, snake, schemer – also applied to Scar, so the lion remained civil.

Tai Lung nodded uncertainly.

"Well," said Scar, "it was a trick. And a nasty one at that. If he didn't escape, she'd call him weak and kill him. If he did, she call him a threat - and kill him. Either way, he was dead from the start."

Dr Horrible glanced up. "That's kinda harsh, don't you think?"

"I for one thought it was hilarious," said Loki.

* * *

The trio had made it to the other side of town with a minimum of physical scarring (though the same could not be said of the mental). However, their opponent was still nowhere in sight.

"Is it too much to hope for that the zombies got him?" asked Murray sadly.

"I'm afraid so! I'm a tougher biscuit than that, chaps," announced an immensely British voice from the darkness. Jak readied his Morphgun, Ghastly clicked two fireballs, and Murray raised his fists. All three tried to pinpoint their opponent's location.

He soon appeared, stepping out from a shadow. Another Spartan, this time with white armour. He twirled a pistol nonchalantly on one armoured finger. A sniper rifle attached to his back clearly hinted to the heroes that if he had so willed it, at least one of them would already be dead.

"Good evening, mates," he said jovially. "A pleasure."

"Wyoming?" asked Jak over the barrel of his gun.

"The one and only," said the Freelancer.

One of the faster Headcrabs leapt suddenly at Wyoming from the shadows. Murray yelled in fright. It latched on to his helmet and kicked futilely when it realized its mistake.

"Nasty little buggers, aren't they?" remarked Wyoming, utterly unfazed. "Remind me of the Flood. Ah, but you probably don't have the Flood. Count yourself lucky. They are, as I say, nasty little buggers." He calmly drew his pistol and shot the creature flailing on his head.

"You seem pretty fearless," noted Jak.

Wyoming chuckled. "Well, in fairness, I've lived these events several times," he replied modestly.

"Excuse me?" asked Ghastly.

Wyoming gestured to his armour. "I happen to have a device on this armour that allows me to replay recent periods of time. Bloody handy, if I do say so."

"Then why let the creature attack you every time?" asked Jak.

"Because," said Wyoming, "every time, the hippo squeaks, you compliment my bravery, and I chuckle."

"Hey!" said Murray indignantly. "**The Murray** was merely... uh, trying to warn you of the monster's cranial assault!"

"Of course, of course," said Wyoming patronizingly. "But I regret to say I've grown bored of all you now, so it's time to get some killing done."

Wyoming aimed his pistol at Ghastly and fired a few rounds. Ghastly reacted admirably quickly, using the air to push himself backwards towards cover, but couldn't avoid taking some shots to the upper chest. He fell behind a wall and struggled to get up.

Jak fired at Wyoming, running towards the building behind him. He threw himself into the door and began rapidly ascending the stairs. Murray considered rushing Wyoming, but he recognized his fists were no match for a pistol, so instead he ran back to Ghastly, bullets whizzing past his head.

Wyoming laughed softly to himself. "My, that surprised you, didn't it? Don't worry – I'm going to kill you slowly. I'm quite bored, after all, and a man has needs!" He casually began reloading his pistol and sauntered up the stairs after Jak.

Murray leaned over Ghastly. "You okay?"

"Just super," lied Ghastly through clenched teeth. Blood was slowly beginning to pool on his clothes.

"That looks bad!" said Murray worriedly.

"Yeah, I know," Ghastly agreed. "It'll take me ages to clean his shirt. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get bloodstains out?"

Murray stared at him.

"Okay, nevermind," said Ghastly. "Listen. Wyoming said he can turn back time, right?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Let's think about this. If we give him the chance, he'll just go back and start over. So if we want to beat him, we have to take him by surprise."

"Yeah, okay..." said Murray, "that makes sense! So how are we going to do it?"

Ghastly managed to get into a sitting position, and immediately regretted it. "Ow. Ow ow ow. That's a powerful pistol he's got. I'll be fine, but I think I'd better stay down for now."

"Looks like things fall down to **The Murray**!" exclaimed Murray. "But... I'm not great at sneaking. That's Sly's job. I just punch guys. How am I meant to take the highly-trained agent by surprise? He'll hear my hulking bulk if I go through the door!"

Ghastly looked up at the building Jak and Wyoming were in. He could just about distinguish two figures fighting in the uppermost window, which was smashed.

"As a friend of mine would say," said Ghastly, "doors are for people with no imagination."

##

A few moments earlier, Jak had reached the zenith of the stairs. He'd arrived in a small room, as dank and tragic as every other one in town. There had been a single zombie in the centre of the room, which only got halfway through its snarl before Jak shot it. He had more pressing matters.

Kicking over a table, Jak crouched behind it. His gun morphed into a higher setting and he waited for the Freelancer who was taunting him as he climbed the steps.

"I find it amusing you think you have a chance," came Wyoming's voice. "I outperform you in every capacity. Training. Weaponry. Facial hair."

Jak raised an eyebrow behind his cover. "What?"

"You heard me! You think that college-boy soulpatch is impressing anyone? Because it isn't! Real men have a curl in their moustache."

At this point, Wyoming's helmet appeared in Jak's vision and he fired furiously at it. The shields of Wyoming's armour sparked. He kept walking.

"As I was saying, my equipment surpasses yours."

Jak growled, switched to the Peacemaker setting, and blasted Wyoming in the torso. Wyoming's shields held, but his pistol was knocked from his and flew through the window, smashing it.

Wyoming merely laughed at this. "Oh, you rascal." Before Jak could fire another shot, Wyoming was suddenly right in front of him. He grabbed Jak's gun and pulled on it, bringing Jak's face into his fist. He then kicked Jak in the stomach, wrenching the gun out of his hand. Jak hit the wall and sank down it.

Wyoming aimed the Morphgun at him. "Guns come, guns go," he sighed. "That said, I do _so_ love killing men with their own weaponry."

"You don't know how to use that thing," spat Jak.

Wyoming laughed again. "I imagine the trigger makes the thin end go boom."

"Worth a shot bluffing..."

"Quite. A noble effort, Mr Jak, but inadequate."

Jak caught something out of the corner of his eye. "Can I ask you to hold on for just a second?"

"I'm sorry, but the only thing that would give me pause is a knock knock joke." A hopeful note entered the Freelancer's voice. "Please tell me you have one."

Jak smiled grimly. "Actually, I do. Knock. Knock."

"Who's there?"

The wall burst into a shower of spiralling concrete chunks as a pink blur slammed through it. "_**THE MURRAAAAAAAAY!**_" declared Murray triumphantly. He blasted through the wall, propelled by a gust of air from Ghastly. He Thunder Flopped, horizontally, into Wyoming, with enough force to make another hole in the far wall using the latter as a projectile.

Jak picked up his Morphgun from where it had fallen and joined Murray in looking down on Wyoming's body, now on the ground far below.

"You think he's okay?" asked Murray.

"I don't know how well-versed you are in biology," replied Jak stoically, "but people's spines aren't supposed to bend that way."

"Oh."

##

On arrival, Ghastly had been brought to the med bay. As he himself said, the bullets wouldn't kill him, but rest was definitely called for. Ghastly was highly pleased when Valkyrie heard about his appearance and visited him. Likewise, Murray was ecstatic about seeing Sly, and was currently with the latter, alternating between recounting the highlights of his deathly adventure in Ravenholm and meeting the various new people Sly was introducing him to.

Jak was less social. He had greeted Sly and Clank in a friendly enough manner, but he didn't stick around, on the off chance one of them would mention the alien fiasco, which he was in no mood to discuss. He had been relieved to find Sig, and was sharing a drink with him in one of the quieter rooms.

"I'm glad you're here, Jak," said the larger man stoically.

Jak grinned mockingly. "Don't go soft on me. I didn't peg you as the emotional type."

Sig rolled his eyes. "I'm glad you're here because I know something's going to go down."

"What makes you say that?"

"You killed your opponent. I only wish I could say the same. There's a lot of those bastards who are either unaccounted for, or outright got away. I can't shake the feeling they're going to pull something."

Jak drained his cup. "Well, when that happens, they'll have to go through me first."

"They'll have to go through all of us," corrected Sig.

Jak grinned. "Yeah. Every single one."

* * *

_**Every single one of the reviews I get make me happy. Yes, even the nasty ones. YOU CAN ONLY INCREASE MY EGO please don't ignore me**_


	18. Day 17: I'm Better At This Than It Seems

It often rains on the tropical islands of the Pacific, and Kaine Island is no exception to this. A simplistic police boat puttered through the stormy waters, closing in on the small landmass. Its occupants weren't actually controlling it; the course was preset. On the boat were three contrasting figures, all surveying the approaching island.

At the prow stood a Spartan, another member of the ill-fated Freelancer project. His armour was a golden colour. His arms were folded, and he was murmuring to himself about his AI partner, who strangely wasn't present alongside him.

Behind him stood a man who was mostly machine. His platinum blond hair was just about visible through the black visor that obscured his face. He was lithe, and seemingly everything below the neck was mechanical; a darkly coloured, humanoid automaton. He held a katana in one hand, which he twisted impatiently.

The final passenger of the boat was a brown raccoon, of more realistic dimensions than Sly; that is to say, he was shorter than Meta Knight and quite stout. He wore a blue jumpsuit, and held two laser pistols. His beady black eyes glared at the approaching island from under his brown fur.

"This place seems raccoony," he remarked in, of all things, a Cockney accent.

Raiden, the man with the katana, shot him a look. "I thought you said you could provide us with a plan. So plan."

The raccoon glared at him. "You're just lucky I'm not carrying any weaponry bigger than myself, pal, because otherwise we'd be seeing how well your cybernetics hold up against sea water."

"Fellas, please," said the Spartan, raising his arms and gesturing for peace. His voice was friendly and suave. "We're supposed to fight Kessler, not each other."

Rocket Raccoon and Raiden glared at each other for a few more moments, before breaking away simultaneously. Agent York shook his head and returned to looking at Kaine Island.

Raiden walked up beside him. "What do you suppose this Kessler is like?"

"Hard to say," said York. "All I can tell you is that taking him down probably won't be easy." Raiden grunted in agreement, examining the shoreline.

"Do you see that?" he asked, pointing to something on the beach the boat was sailing towards. York followed his finger and gulped. He could vaguely make out an angry crowd on the sand. Although it was impossible to be certain from the distance they were at, they seemed to be a collection of twisted genetic experiments. York readied his assault rifle, and Raiden his katana.

"Looks like the locals aren't too happy to see us," noted Rocket Raccoon, walking up to join them. He drew out two laser pistols and held one in each hand.

"That's putting it mildly," agreed York. He rolled his shoulders under his golden armour.

"I've decided," declared Rocket Raccoon. Raiden and York turned to him, expectant of whatever he was going to say.

"This place is _definitely _raccoony," said RR.

The look Raiden and York shared could almost be seen through their respective helmets.

* * *

Azula stood in front of Tai Lung, Loki and Scar. The former had his legs crossed and was meditating, and the two princes were lounging on a couch, half asleep.

"Why, exactly," said Azula disapprovingly, "do you three seem to do nothing around here?"

"I'm a cat," responded Tai Lung, without opening his eyes. "Are felines not perceived as lazy and feckless?"

"I am a prince," replied Loki, twirling his staff. "I'm unsuited to any form of hard labour."

Scar, lying on his back, shot an upside-down grin at Azula. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Well, get up," snapped Azula, unamused. "We have something to discuss. Privately." She motioned for them to follow her into Maleficent's room.

The three shared glances as she left, unenthusiastic about having to get up.

"I liked her friend better," rumbled Tai Lung.

* * *

The atmosphere in the engine room was expectant. The Engineer made a few final adjustments to the Medigun. Ratchet and Clank spoke to each other, and Zeke watched the door impatiently.

"I'm glad you're here for this," said Ratchet. "From the sounds of things, it's going to be pretty interesting."

"It's something of a shame that I can't monitor this experiment from the bridge," replied Clank. "However, Meta Knight and HK-47 are performing some kind of modification to the room that they claim I am not needed for, so I am glad I have something to do while outside."

It was at this juncture Cole appeared, strolling into the engine room with his hands in his pockets. Everyone turned to look at him, and he blinked at them. "What?" he said, slightly nonplussed.

"We've been waiting for the guinea pig to show up," joked Zeke. "Time to test out my new engine idea."

"Is that what this is about?" asked Cole, whose briefing clearly hadn't been very thorough.

"Dr Dunbar has suggested a rather unorthodox method of powering the ship," explained Clank, "with you quite literally at the centre."

"Still, we're all about unorthodox here," smiled Ratchet, "so we're looking forward to seeing it in action."

Cole looked at Zeke incredulously. "_Doctor _Dunbar? Just what have you told these people about your qualifications, Zeke?"

"Hah, that's just Cole's usual sense of humour," laughed Zeke lightly. He turned slightly from the others to give Cole a dark look. Cole rolled his eyes in response and shrugged.

"One doctorate's nice enough," said the Engineer, adjusting his wrench. "But come back to me when you rustle up 11."

"_Anyway_," said Cole forcefully, "what am I doing?"

"Viola!" said Zeke, intentionally mispronouncing the word. He pointed to the former engine in the centre of the room.

The engine's frame remained in place, but the large crystal that once presumably floated in its centre was gone. Instead, two restraints hung from the top of the frame; large, curved and silver, they would both easily cover a hand completely. There were near-identical ones on the bottom of the frame, evidently for feet.

Cole blinked. "I'm not even going to say what that looks like to me," he said. "Not in polite company."

Zeke sighed. "We modified the old engine, which ran on pixie dust or some junk. Now, Tinkerbell presumably died in the crash, cause the thing's got no juice. But who needs fairies when you have a superhero?"

"You saying what I think you're saying?" asked Cole.

"Damn right. The feet thingies'll supply you with some electricity. Electricity that you'll amplify with your powers, and shoot into the _hand _thingies."

"And just like that, the whole ship's running again," said the Engineer.

Cole grinned. "Plug me into this marvel, already!"

He stepped into the device, placing his hands and feet into the corresponding grips. Zeke tightened the various grips and soon Cole was in place.

"I'm monitoring the instruments," said Ratchet from a console. "Give us some power."

"It may be wise to begin gently," added Clank. "This is merely an experiment for the system."

"Gotcha," said Cole. Zeke flipped a switch and immediately Cole could feel the electricity coursing into him, directly through his sneakers. He savoured the power for a brief moment, and then started to release lightning from his hands. The electricity was immediately drained by the restraints and pulled into the engine's body.

The others watched as a few of the devices they had nervously plugged into the engine's wiring activated. The machines turned on without incident.

Zeke's grin was as wide as it was triumphant. "We now officially run on Cole Power."

* * *

Raiden leaped into the air, a shining silver silhouette against the moon. He cleanly beheaded a monster upon landing, turned quickly, and charged at another.

York emptied a magazine of his rifle into a crowd of mutants, then threw a grenade. "Well, this is fun. Where to next, gentlemen?"

Rocket Raccoon zipped out of range of a large lobster claw which attempted to crush his head, using his rocket skates. He fired at the beast with his laser pistols. "Top of that mountain?" he suggested. "Better view."

"Affirmative," said York. A final monster shambled towards him, and he dismissively elbowed it in the throat. It crumpled, choking. "Coming, Raiden?"

Raiden sliced his last opponent, and then scanned the area via a quick 360 degree spin. No mutants remained. "Behind you."

* * *

Sokka picked his way through the desert outside the Halberd. Meta Knight had asked if some heroes could try to excavate the Halberd's wings from the sand which entrapped them. Although Sokka knew that he could hardly dig them out by hand himself, he wanted to give the problem a look.

He found a assemblage of heroes each trying their own method to free the wings. She-Hulk was pushing up the metal of the wing, Thor was trying to pull it out from the air, and Aang was blowing sand away from the purple folds of the wing.

Sokka walked up to Aang and asked how things we progressing. "Not great," said Aang, with a rare lack of enthusiasm. "There's too much sand to dig the wings out from above."

"Then why are you doing it that way?" demanded Sokka. "Do some Earthbending! Push it up from below!" He made some comically inaccurate Earthbending gestures to jokingly underline his point. Aang didn't even smile. "What's wrong?" asked Sokka, now completely serious.

"I want to, but..." Aang lowered his voice out of embarrassment, and checked to see if the others outside were listening to him. "I can't!" he confided in a panicked whisper. "Since I got here all I have is Airbending! I remember learning the other arts, but they're just not coming back to me."

Sokka thought for a moment. He watched She-Hulk wave to Ratchet, who was visible in a window of the engine room situated just above the wing.

"Did you try that spirit-talky thing with the past Avatars?" asked Sokka.

Aang nodded sadly. "I tried really hard, but I couldn't get through to Roku or any of the others. The whole spirit world feels all weird. It's... wrong."

Sokka was about to say something when a large shadow fell over him. "Have you a reason for stopping?" asked Thor, a friendly curiosity on his face.

Aang shook his head quickly. Sokka said, "No, I guess not."

Thor smiled. "Very well. The wing awaits our assistance."

Sokka nodded. He gave a look to Aang, signifying that they'd talk later.

* * *

Sly leaned against a wall and took in the plethora of conversations which murmured around him. Tony and Sarge discussing the attachment one feels to the robots you build, despite their flaws; Spoony asking Auron invasive questions in regards to his journey to Zanarkand; Valkyrie giving Ty Lee thorough romantic advice – specifically, to never date a vampire under any circumstances.

A group dominated the centre of the room, where various heroes were swapping stories of the maniacs and monsters they had faced down. Sly had been in this group, sitting alongside Murray. Murray was animatedly recounting the gang's brush with the fearsome sea monster known only as The Crusher. Sly obviously knew how story went, and Murray told it with such enthusiasm that Sly didn't have much to add. Hence, he ducked out of the group to get a drink, and after leaving it had paused a moment to take in the social energy crackling throughout the room. He smiled to himself.

"You look happy." A gravelly voice cut across the myriad of murmurs, catching Sly's attention. He turned to see Jak striding through the room towards him.

"Hello Jak," grinned the thief. "Feel like sharing some tales? I'm sure you've taken down a few noteworthy monsters in your time."

"I certainly have, but I'm not a storyteller. Daxter's the one you want for that kind of thing. I'm here to ask you about something else."

Sly took a sip from his cup. "Go ahead."

"I've asked around, and there are a couple of guys who, like me, are getting a little restless just sitting around this ship with all this loaded weaponry."

"I guess chatting's not for everyone," said Sly stoically.

"So, since this desert isn't actually that hot – at least, by my standards – I was hoping we could wander out for a day, see if we find anything."

Sly nodded to himself. "That's a pretty great idea, actually. We have plenty of people here already, and there's been a lot of talk about exploring the area. You know, see if there's any clues to be found."

"If I find a crashed UFO, or a magic temple, I'll be sure to tell you," said Jak, folding his arms. "But to be honest, I just want to get some fresh air."

Sly finished his drink and rested the receptacle on a table. "Come on, I'll help you pitch this to the boardroom. Though we should probably be careful about the wording. Less 'desert gun party', more 'exploratory information-gathering expedition."

"Makes sense to me," said Jak as the two left the room.

"Bentley's going to pleased to meet you again," said Sly. "He hasn't seen you since that alien fiasco." Jak groaned, and Sly raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"I was hoping you wouldn't bring that up," growled Jak.

"Oh... sorry."

* * *

York stood in front of the heavy golden door which guarded the Cooper Vault. He put his hands on his hips and nodded to himself.

"That's one hell of a door," he said appreciatively. "Especially if it's as old as it looks."

"Yeah, yeah, raccoons are so _marvellously_ crafty," said Rocket Raccoon. "Can you open it. Agent _Locksmith_?"

York examined the various drills which were installed around the door and on the high platform that stood on. "Someone's been trying to open this thing for a very long time, and unsuccessfully I might add. But I'll give it shot. Sometimes you need a fresh perspective to turn things around, you know?"

"You have fun with that," said the raccoon. "Seems to me it'd be a good place for Kessler to be hiding. Less mutant abominations inside, for a start."

"Or more."

"Yeah, maybe."

Rocket Raccoon left York tapping at the door and went to where Raiden's cybernetic arm appeared over the edge of the platform. The raccoon grabbed it and helped Raiden climb, drawing on strength unusual for his small size. Raiden accepted his help gratefully but silently. If he was daunted by the huge drop to sea level he was perilously close to, he didn't show it.

"What's the situation?" he asked.

"Goldilocks over there is working on the door," explained Rocket Raccoon. "We're going to see if Kessler's inside."

"I don't think that will be necessary," said Raiden calmly.

"Oh? And what makes you say that?" snapped Rocket Raccoon.

"Because I'm guessing that's Kessler standing right there," said Raiden, pointing to the man who was suddenly standing with them on the platform. Rocket Raccoon whipped around.

Kessler was old. His face was haggard and worn, but his glowing blue eyes distracted from this fact. His clothes were all white; his trousers, his overcoat, his hood, even his shoes. There was metal plating on his torso, with large blue lights glowing on it, and his right arm was encased in a complex metallic gauntlet. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly, but forceful.

"Cole MacGrath," he growled, addressing the three. "Where is he?"

"Sorry mate," growled Rocket Raccoon. He drew his pistols, and Raiden brandished his katana. "Never even heard of him."

"Then you three are useless to me," said Kessler simply. He raised his metal hand and fired a burst of white light at York.

York yelped in surprise. He reached for his pistol and dived out of the way. He fired a few rounds at Kessler, which joined the lasers shot by Rocket Raccoon, but Kessler showed no reaction to them. The hooded man glowed brightly for a few moments, and then pushed his torso forward. A ripple of air came from him, zooming towards York.

"Son of a bit-!" swore York before the wave slammed into him, throwing him off his feet and plummeting to the jagged ground several storeys below.

Raiden ran towards Kessler, swinging his sword. He swung widely, aiming to decapitate him. However, by the time the sword reached where Kessler's neck was, Kessler's neck was no longer there. Kessler teleported erratically, within a short area, before teleporting a final time and disappearing from view.

Rocket Raccoon said a very nasty word indeed. "Where'd he go? _Where'd he go?!_"

"Be ready," murmured Raiden. "He'll be back at any-"

Kessler was behind Rocket Raccoon.

Kessler walked forward in several directions, diverging into spectres of himself; ghostly images little more than white outlines. Raiden sliced several in half with his sword, but none were the true Kessler. The true Kessler was, in fact, choking Rocket Raccoon with his gauntlet. Kessler ran several volts through the raccoon and then threw him off the platform.

Rocket Raccoon sailed through the air, disorientated. He recovered quickly, and activated his rocket skates in an attempt to regain ground. He knew that he was too far from the platform to return, but he did manage to guide himself into one of the nearby guard towers.

He caught the ledge and pulled himself up. The tower was fairly simplistic, with only one computer console contained within. Rocket Raccoon ran to it and banged furiously on the buttons on its face.

On the platform, Raiden was engaging Kessler, but the battle was one sided. Kessler seemed unfazed by Raiden's constant sword swings, and was regarding him with a detached disinterest, making no real move to counterattack.

Rocket Raccoon saw a big red button sitting ominously in the middle of the console. His eyes lit up. "**Eat this!**" he roared at Kessler. "Whatever it is...!" He swung a fist in an arc and dramatically depressed the button.

At once, the defence systems of the island came alive with a scream of sirens. A multitude of guns, lasers, turrets and missiles turned towards Kessler and began pounding into him. Kessler growled and disappeared again.

Rocket Raccoon swore. "Try to hold him in place! I'll see if I can focus these!" he yelled.

Raiden grunted in acknowledgement. The systems had also marked him as a threat, and he was having to employ an unending stream of acrobatics to remain intact. A normal man would have run out of stamina in a few seconds, but then again, normal men are usually entirely made of flesh, whereas the same could not be said of Raiden.

Kessler reappeared, already halfway through preparing another surge of energy. The weapons immediately starting tearing into him again, and he made no move to dodge them.

Rocket Raccoon fiddled with a few dials urgently, glancing up at Kessler constantly. "I got it!" he called. "Hold him still!"

Raiden slid past missiles firing at him from either side, running towards Kessler. Kessler shot his hands forward and blasted an air ripple at him. Raiden flipped over it, turning in the air and readying his sword as he flew over Kessler. He landed behind Kessler and, spinning on his heel, he drove his sword through both his own body and Kessler's, pinning the two together.

Rocket Raccoon rolled his eyes. "_Showoff_," he thought. "_Still, oughta keep him from teleporting._" He pressed several buttons at once.

Simultaneously, the defence systems of the island fired at Kessler. Raiden withdrew his blade and kicked Kessler, propelling himself away and getting a sufficient distance between them.

Kessler was thrown off of his feet and sent hurtling off of the island by the collective power of the weaponry. Clearly, he wasn't that badly hurt, as even mid-air he was still firing projectiles at Raiden and Rocket Raccoon. However, hitting the ocean was another matter entirely. Kessler's body lit up the water, sending electricity pooling in all directions. However, it was mostly centralized around his body, and it was clear that despite his powers, there was nothing that prevented Kessler's own electricity from hurting him.

Rocket Raccoon strained his eyes on the whiteness in the ocean. "Is he dead?"

The two suddenly found themselves on the bridge of the Halberd, to the shock of Meta Knight and HK-47.

"I think so," said Raiden.

##

Rocket Raccoon kicked open the door of the boardroom.

"Easy with that," chided Phoenix. "It's not as strong as it looks."

"Little late today, hmm?" said Revan.

"I was helping your friend up in the bridge set up a little something," said Rocket Raccoon. "When we'd finished, he pointed me here as the tactics room. So," he said, hopping on to a chair and slamming a small hand on to the table, "what's your plan, and why haven't you done it yet?"

Revan tilted his head. "You're hired."

"I used to say that," said L.

* * *

_**People used to review, too. Me and L, we pine for the good old days.**_


	19. Day 18: Things I Haven't Even Tried

Long ago, there existed a pleasant land called Torras. The king ruled from a modest castle in the main town of the same name. In Torras – that is to say, the town – a variety of traders and shopkeepers made a living. But there was one businessman who had just arrived, and stood apart from the others; in fact, he stood apart from all the citizens of the town. They were pale, but he dark-skinned; they were all of the same approximate height, but he far taller; and they all wore honest smiles, while his smile was more oily. He sat in the noon sun, resplendent in his black and purple suit and skull-and-crossbones emblazoned top hat, waiting for an idiot to wander by. He received what he wanted, and more, in the form of Michael J. Caboose.

Caboose wore blue Spartan armour, although his helmet was of a more simplistic design than the other Spartans chronicled thus far. He held a rifle recklessly, waving it around with little regard for safety. The citizens of Torras were in no danger; the rifle had been rendered inoperable after Caboose had tried loading it crayons. He was exploring Torras while whistling.

He was tapped on the shoulder. He turned to see a thin man with a thinner moustache looking him up and down with sharp, purple eyes. Behind him, his shadow smiled at Caboose, slightly out of sync with the man himself. "Greetings," he purred. "A tip of the hat from Dr Facilier," he said, removing his hat and bowing deeply.

"Hello!" was the reply. "I'm Caboose. I'd take my helmet off, but I'm not sure how to any more."

"You seem like you've been wandering a while. Can I offer you a seat?" asked Facilier, gesturing to a table behind him as his shadow gestured to a chair. "And perhaps, while we're at it... I can show you your future," he grinned, suddenly holding a tarot deck.

"Oh wow!" gasped Caboose. "A wizard!" He gladly took a seat and choose three cards when prompted. Facilier laid them out smoothly in a row.

"So I see you're a military man," said Facilier, turning over the card of Strength.

"I get paid to stand around holding a gun!" confirmed Caboose happily. "And I get dental for when mean ladies break my teeth with their fists."

"And right now, you're a bit lost," continued the Shadowman, revealing the Fool.

"That's true of most days."

"And let's see what your _future_ holds… hmm." Facilier frowned down at The Tower card.

"What's that?" queried Caboose, examining the card. It depicted a tower being struck by lightning in the dead of night, bursting into flames, as people threw themselves from its windows. "...Is it good?"

"Uh, sure," answered Facilier. For someone as naïve and cheerful as Caboose, it was always better to stress the positive. The only problem is The Tower, unlike the other cards, had no real upside. The best Facilier could tell Caboose was that "You're going to see some real big changes soon enough."

"Well, duh. Even I could have told you that," scoffed Caboose.

Facilier gritted his teeth. "You certainly are... interesting," he said. "Tell you what. How's about you take this," he said, producing a small voodoo doll, "and you and I meet up again later."

"Thank you, Professor Facsimile!" said Caboose, sitting the doll on his shoulder. "I'll call him Keith! No wait, David!" Caboose struggled for a moment, grasping for a compromise. "David Keith!" he decided.

"That's nice. Now, you run along. And enjoy your stay in Torras," smiled Facilier.

##

Carth Onasi nervously ran his hand through his short brown hair. He had difficulty trusting people around him at the best of times, and being forced into a coalition with two complete strangers was hardly the best of times. The sun glinted off of the buttons of his orange jacket, as well as his silver blaster, which his hand resting was on. Just in case.

Caboose walked up to him. "There you are," said Carth. "I wasn't able to get information from the locals in the bar. What have you done?"

"Well," said Caboose matter-of-factly. "First, I chased some chickens for a while. Then, I nearly fell into the well. Then, I got my fortune told by a wizard, and he gave me this doll. And then I ran into a barrel and it exploded." He paused. "_I love this place!_" he concluded in a shout.

"That's... nice. What about you, Dr Freeman? You find anything?" Carth asked, knowing it was futile. They had only learned Gordon's name because it was written on the letter; he was completely mute. The third member of their group was a bearded, bespectacled man in an orange and black protective suit. Currently, he was hitting a stone wall with his crowbar. Upon being addressed, he gradually turned around and stared at Carth. Just when the eye contact became uncomfortable, he shook his head slowly. Then he turned back to the wall and resumed hitting it.

"That's... right. Well," said Carth, unnerved. "I guess we should head out then." He nodded to the massive red and white doors which served as the entrance and exit to the town of Torras. "Maybe this Facilier guy is in the woods somewhere."

"I can't remember from where," murmured Caboose, "but that name sounds familiar to me. Maybe we should ask the wizard if we see him again."

* * *

"Cole, man, I was looking for you!"

Cole started and turned around, seeing Zeke approach him. "Why?" asked Cole, seeing the Medigun in Zeke's hands. "You want to show me your new toy?"

"Nah, this is for the med bay," explained Zeke. "I agreed to drop it down on Engie's behalf after he fixed it, since it'd also give me a chance to track you down." Zeke looked around the darkened room he had found Cole in. "What're you doing down here, brother?"

Cole shook his head. "Just... thinking. About Kuo."

Zeke sighed and put a hand on Cole's shoulder. "Listen man, I know you're upset. We all are. Lotta good people have died in this crazy thing. But you can't just sulk down here."

"It's not even that," replied Cole. "Of course I'm sad. But the reason I'm thinking about it is... I'm sceptical."

"Sceptical? What, you think she's not dead?"

"No, she's dead," said Cole solemnly. "Otherwise, she'd be here. It's _how_ she died that confuses me. Revan said she fell into lava, right?"

"So you say, yeah."

"Kuo can teleport. She wouldn't fall into anything," said Cole, his eyes narrowing.

"So... what did happen?" asked Zeke apprehensively.

"I can't say," muttered Cole. "I'm just... Forget it."

They stood in silence for a few moments.

"Come on, man," said Zeke after a time. "I need to drop this in to the doc, and then run a few more tests with you. I... really don't know what to tell you about this Kuo business."

"I wish I knew what to tell myself," replied Cole.

* * *

A brigand jumped out from behind a tree, brandishing a short dagger. He smiled mockingly at Carth and demanded his gold.

Carth shot the brigand in the chest with his blaster. The brigand flew backwards, landed on his rear, and passed out, disorientated. Carth shook his head. "This place is a vacation resort compared to Lower Taris." He holstered his weapon and kept walking.

"And then O'Malley became my room-mate, only instead of an apartment, we shared my brain!" Caboose was saying to Gordon, behind Carth. "So yeah, the lesson to be taken from that is that AIs can go on the radio and burrow into your mind, like a catchy song. A catchy song where the lyrics are 'You should kill your friends!'"

Gordon looked at Caboose.

"Oh, I'm sorry," apologised the blue soldier. "I've been talking about myself this whole time. How are you? I see your armour is orange. I like that. Orange is a good colour."

Gordon kept walking.

"I knew a guy in orange armour once," Caboose said. "Only, it wasn't orange, it was yellow. But then his twin brother came down from the moon and _he_ was yellow, and I realized the first guy was orange the whole time! It was a big day."

Gordon showed no reaction.

"But your armour has no helmet. Everyone I know wears their helmet all the time. It's great, 'cause my helmet is the best helmet. It's Mark V, and everyone else has Mark VI. And five is better than six on a top ten list. Right?"

Gordon remained silent.

"Yeah, I thought so. The other guys didn't agree with me, but it's good to have you back me up. In fact, you're really nice! You haven't been mean to me yet!"

Gordon spotted a beehive hanging from a nearby tree. He took out his gravity gun, pulled the beehive down, and shot it at Caboose's head. The beehive exploded against his helmet, covering his visor. Gordon walked on.

"Nevermind, then," said Caboose.

* * *

"...and then the panda flexed his pinkie finger," concluded Tai Lung, "and I exploded."

The villains were on another collective break, and had begun to amiably swap stories. Tai Lung's, which he had just finished recounting, was met with a series of confused stares.

"You _exploded_," said Scar flatly.

"Yes."

"Are... you sure?" asked Loki.

"Positive," growled the leopard.

"Bah!" scoffed Doom. "No such technique could actually exist."

"I thought so too," shrugged Tai Lung. "And yet..."

"Perhaps we should turn our attention to more immediate matters," said Azula, from where she leaned against a wall. "Our most recent conquests against our strange foes, perhaps?"

"Mine certainly went well," bragged Loki. "Ah, but I've told that tale already. Perchance it's time for a new one."

"Dr Horrible!" said Scar, fixing the Scientist with a hungry grin. "You never told us how _you_ dealt with the ruffians you faced. What horrors did you inflict on them?"

Dr Horrible tugged at the collar of the labcoat, and his eye began to twitch. "Well, see, it was pretty clever of me, actually. I froze the angry one..."

"Right," said Azula.

"Then I asked them to show me their letter, pointed out we didn't actually have to fight, and then they let me leave."

"Ooh, how _villainous_!" taunted Bison.

"Was that really the best you could do?" asked Loki, giving Horrible a condescending smile.

"Come on guys," said Horrible uneasily. His twitching intensified. "We've all got styles here. Like, M Bison. You're all about honourably breaking your opponent's spine."

Bison grinned. "But of course."

"And Dr Doom is all about acting superior to those around him."

"_Being_ superior to those around **Doom**," corrected Doom.

"Uh, right. And you, Loki. You trick people into looking the other way, and then backstab them."

Loki modestly twirled his staff. "We do what comes naturally."

"Exactly! And killing doesn't come naturally to me. My style is more subtle and stuff."

"Subtle?" asked Maleficent. Horrible had never before realized how tall she was. "Subtle is your word for it. But I think the rest of us would agree on a different term."

"Weak," sneered Azula.

"Spineless," said Bison.

"Pitiable," offered Loki.

"Pathetic," said Scar.

"**Wretched!**" boomed Doom.

"Well, perhaps not an exact word," said Maleficent, "but an idea. You are beneath us, Horrible. You are a coward."

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't need you people either!" snapped Dr Horrible suddenly. His rage had overridden his fear, and several days' uncomfortable thoughts came bubbling to the surface. "_Maybe_ I don't belong here! I'm not a sadistic royal fop with a British accent!"

"With a what?" queried Scar confusedly. Horrible ignored him.

M Bison stepped towards Horrible. "My my, it seems that you've finally -"

"Don't get me started on you!" yelled Horrible. "You're the worst person here. You think you're honourable? There's no honour in killing. You think you're intelligent? You're just a dumb brute. You think you're sophisticated? You're just a _bully_." Dr Horrible spat this final word venomously, and emphasised it by jabbing his gloved finger into Bison's muscular chest. Their difference in stature and physique served only to further underline Horrible's point.

It was a rare moment where Bison's smile died. This was one such moment. He stared at the doctor emotionlessly, and then wrapped his hand around Horrible's throat, lifting him into the air.

"It's curtains for you, Horrible," he said. "Jet black curtains. That I set on fire."

Through the red haze behind his eyes and the hand on his neck, Dr Horrible still managed to give Bison a quizzical look.

"Leave him, Bison," commanded Maleficent. Bison released Horrible, the blond man falling to the floor and gasping for breath. His goggles clattered off of his head, and Dr Doom bent to pick them up.

"You a disgrace to everyone here, Doctor," said Maleficent slowly, addressing him with a dour decorum. "I hereby banish you from this domain. We will not kill you, if only because you are too far beneath us to deserve such an honour. Now leave."

"That's right," sneered Scar. "Run. Run, far away, and never return."

Horrible stood shakily, rubbing his neck. He turned to leave, but Dr Doom stood in the way. Horrible tensed, but Doom merely offered him something.

"Your goggles," intoned Dr Doom, but with little grace. Dr Horrible gratefully snatched his apparel from Doom's metal hand.

As he left, Dr Horrible caught the eyes of Tai Lung. They held eye contact for a while, but neither said anything. Horrible waited for Tai Lung to do something, but after a few seconds of inaction the Scientist broke away, glaring. He pulled his goggles on to cover his eyes, and then he strode furiously out of the tower and into the expanse of the desert.

Azula smiled to herself.

* * *

They had arrived at a weathered castle of white stone, sat on an island. They had crossed three rickety wooden bridges to a small grassy courtyard. The castle (although that is an opulent word for the worn, broken building) was up a staircase to the right, while a thin stone path sloped downwards to the left. They had decided to briefly split the party in order to search more effectively.

Caboose was in the courtyard, making a training dummy spin on its pivoting base by punching one side of it. Carth climbed up the stack of boxes from the stone path, back into the courtyard.

"Nothing there but a metal grate I can't open," he announced to Caboose. He would have questioned what Caboose had found, but he knew that the soldier had been playing with the dummy since they arrived.

Carth sighed. "Maybe Freeman's having better luck."

##

Gordon was climbing the the stairs to the top of the castle's tower, emptying his machine-gun into the walls as he did so. Had he not been making so much noise, he might have noticed Facilier was just behind him.

Dr Facilier's voodoo was powerful and varied. For example, he had effortlessly tracked the trio by use of 'David Keith'. However, there were limits. Although he had a blood-based amulet who altered the wearer's appearance into the person whose blood filled it, he couldn't use it to change his own form. However, he recently realized that there was nothing stopping him from being the blood donor, as it were.

His shadow held the amulet and crept slowly towards Gordon.

"Alright then, doc," Facilier whispered. "You and I are gonna have a nice long _talk_."

##

"No, Caboose," said Carth impatiently. "Lightsabres are the ancient symbol of Jedi wisdom. They aren't keys."

"But they unlock your death!"

As Carth struggled to find a response to that, he heard a cough behind him. He turned to see Facilier beaming merrily at him.

"Nurse FaxMachine!" cried Caboose happily. "You know about unlocking people's deaths, right?"

"I most certainly do," grinned Facilier maliciously. He pulled down on the skull-and-crossbones on his hat, somehow wearing it as a mask over the top half of his face.

Carth, having had a crash course in how to speak Caboose, realized quickly that this was Dr Facilier. He produced his blaster and tried to shoot Facilier, but his aim was put off by a violent push. He was startled; no-one was close enough to him to have pushed him, unless something like Facilier's shadow had somehow managed to do it.

Seizing the chance, Facilier blew some pink dust into the pilot's face, eliciting a pained cry from Carth. Then, with a wink to Caboose, Facilier threw down a smoke bomb, which exploded into a burst of colours. When it cleared, he was nowhere in sight.

"Ugh... I feel sick," moaned Carth, who was quickly paling. He lowered to the ground, supporting himself with one hand. "Where'd he go?"

"Look, he's up there!" said Caboose, pointing to the roof of the castle's tower. Indeed, visible against the blue sky was the unmistakeable form of Dr Facilier.

"How'd he get up there so fast? Ugh, it doesn't matter." Carth produced a spherical grenade from his jacket pocket. "Here, Caboose. I don't trust myself to make that throw right now."

"But you do trust me?" asked Caboose dubiously.

"Just do it!"

"Uh, okay!"

Caboose pulled one arm back, aimed carefully, and then shot his arm forward in a majestic throw. When nothing happened, he realized that he had used the wrong arm. He performed the same action again with his other limb, and the grenade sailed from his hand. It flew through the air and came to a impressive stop right next to where the black suited man was standing.

"Wow! That was the best throw I ever did!" said Caboose proudly.

The grenade exploded, throwing the man off the tower. Curiously, his feet remained parallel to the ground as he flew towards it. He landed on both feet with a terrible snapping noise, and crumpled to the ground.

"Major fracture detected," stated Facilier's leg. "User death imminent."

The amulet around Facilier's neck snapped from its string and rolled away. The man appearance changed by degrees back into that of Gordon Freeman.

"Oh," said Caboose sadly. "That's why."

Carth coughed. "Did... we just kill Dr Freeman?"

"Yeah," said Caboose, in his far-off manner. "I only ever seem to be able to kill my team-mates. We've just accepted it as a fact of life now. No-one yells at me for it. Ever."

Carth hit upon an idea. "Well, I guess without Freeman, I'm doomed. If I were you, Caboose, I'd switch teams. Help Dr Facilier."

Caboose thought about it. "I _would_ like a hat like his... And in my experience, enemies are just friends who live on the other side of the canyon. So you and me could still hang out!"

"Yay," choked Carth.

Dr Facilier was striding up to them casually, as if he had merely bested them in a card game, and not mortal combat. "Why hello there," he said smoothly. "I see you've unravelled my little parlour trick. Your friend was more than willing to assist me. Or at least," he laughed, "he didn't say no!"

There was a crunch.

"What," said Facilier, paling, "was that?"

"Oops!" said Caboose. "I meant to pick up your amulet for you, but I think I stepped on it." He looked down. "Yep, definitely broken. Pieces everywhere."

Dr Facilier stared in horror as green flame began to lick around the castle walls. A taunting, fast-paced drum beat began to pound as voodoo masks came out from behind corners, sneering at Facilier hungrily. The doll on Caboose's shoulder jumped down and ran towards its former master threateningly as the Shadowman and his shadow pressed themselves against a wall, terrified.

Carth blinked. "What the hell is this?"

"Tucker did it," Caboose lied quickly.

##

Carth and Caboose appeared on the bridge of the Halberd, the latter still hunched on the ground.

"Howdy!" greeted Deadpool. He examined Carth. "You okay, buddy? You look a little sick."

"I'm hallucinating," said Carth. "Or at least, I hope I am."

"There were masks, and dolls, and they sang at the wizard and then he and his imaginary friend were dragged into a wall," explained Caboose. "It was all very scary."

"Cool!" said Deadpool, not the slightest bit taken aback. He called in Dr McNinja over the intercom to escort Carth to the med bay, which the doctor promptly did.

"So, who was your third guy?" Deadpool asked Caboose conversationally, more curious than tactful.

"His name was Gordon," said Caboose. "He's a bit dead right now."

"What happened?"

"Someone – and we don't know _who_," stressed Caboose, "_may _have knocked him off a tower with a grenade because we thought he was the bad guy."

"Well, it happens I suppose," said Deadpool levelly. "Ain't no-one's fault, homeboy."

"Exactly!" said Caboose relievedly. "Besides, I'm sure he wasn't that important. I bet he wasn't even a real doctor."

* * *

_**What kind of doctor grows a beard? And furthermore, what kind of internet denizen reads a fanfic without throwing together a quick review?**_


	20. Day 19: Not Silent

It was a another dark and hopeless night in Empire City. People despondently wandered the streets in tattered, dirty clothing that did little to stop the chilling winds blowing in from the Atlantic Ocean. Hygiene was one of the first things sacrificed when the government had put the city in quarantine; a desperate measure intended to stop the spread of the mysterious Plague which sprung into being after a supposed terrorist attack which had levelled five blocks. The decadence of the city was long forgotten; nowadays, its citizens were more focused on merely surviving for another day.

Gunshots rang out, sending people running in fear. Up on their rooftop, the Reapers who had fired laughed amongst themselves. They once had been mere drug dealers, a minor problem for Empire. Since the Blast, they were barely human, and controlled a third of the city. They had no real target – instead, they were simply amusing themselves, lording their power over the populace.

On an opposite rooftop, a man frowned. It was his job to stamp out such behaviour.

He drew back the string of his bow. He took careful aim, and then, with an uncanny accuracy, let loose an arrow which struck a Reaper directly in the head. The Reaper fell limply off the roof to the street below, and the other members of its group leapt to alertness, chattering like diseased monkeys.

The man drew another arrow, selecting one with a special head. He fired it at a Reaper in the centre of the group. Again, the Reaper was struck, but upon impact, the arrow also released a brief salvo of machine-gun fire in a circular pattern. The Reapers panicked, but realized which direction the arrows were coming from. They began firing wildly at the other rooftop with their automatic weapons, filling the air with a hail of bullets.

Hawkeye ducked into cover. The Reapers had terrible accuracy, especially by his standards, but there were too many bullets to risk firing more arrows. He took out a radio. "Pyro," he said. "You're up."

On the Reaper's rooftop, a stout figure came out from behind its hiding place behind an air-vent. The Reapers noticed it and turned their attention towards it. Its breath was ragged and husky. The moonlight glinted off of its long, thin weapon. The Reapers couldn't make it out clearly until a burst of fire erupted from the flamethrower, casting dancing light over a gruesome gas mask. The Pyro laughed mockingly through the mask, advancing in a run. The Reapers scattered in fear as the nearest was consumed in the fire.

One of the Reapers fled to the edge of the rooftop, but was met by an incredibly strange sight. Another man floated up to meet it. He was wearing a finely tailored suit, complete with wide-brimmed hat and a scarf which blew subtly in a wind which hadn't be present seconds before. The figure clicked its fingers, and a fireball burst in being in his palm. This illuminated his face – or more accurately, his lack thereof. A skull grinned at the Reaper, which was completely frozen in complete shock.

"Good evening," he said in a smooth voice. "Pleasant night, no?" Then, in contrast to the increasingly bizarre image, the skeleton produced a comparatively mundane revolver and shot the Reaper in the heart with a comparatively mundane bullet.

Skulduggery Pleasant touched down on the rooftop and watched the Pyro finish off the rest of the Reapers. When the last succumbed to its fire, the Pyro victoriously hefted its flamethrower over its head and let out a triumphant battle cry.

"Nice work, Sir and/or Madam," complimented Skulduggery. The Pyro made a modest hand gesture. Skulduggery raised his phone. "We're all clear here, Hawkeye."

An arrow embedded itself into a light fixture on the roof, trailing a durable rope. It dug into it with automatic hooks. Hawkeye pulled on the rope to test it, then pressed a button on his wrist. The rope contracted, pulled Hawkeye with it. Hawkeye swung across the street, garnering a few fascinated looks and even a quick camera shot from the people below. He landed on the opposite building's wall feet-first, absorbing the shock by bending his knees, and then climbed up to Skulduggery and the Pyro with the help of the rope.

"All targets neutralized," he announced upon reaching the roof. "Now we continue with the major objective."

Skulduggery nodded. "You two are just lucky to have a detective with you. It could take a long time to find someone in a city as big - and dangerous – as this. Even someone with a taken name as ridiculous as 'The Sorrow'."

"Huh huu muh 'Huh hud/dah hudda'," said the Pyro. "Hu hud dud hudda hudda."

"Well said, Pyro," said Hawkeye, patting it on the shoulder. "Well said."

"Huh huu."

* * *

Dr McNinja had hooked up the Medigun to Carth's bed, and the device sent out a calm red glow into the unconscious pilot. McNinja was checking Carth's vitals when there was a sharp knock on the door. Before Dr McNinja could verbalise permission for entry, Revan strode in, glancing around the room. HK-47 entered behind him, brandishing a blaster. They walked to Carth.

"How is he?" asked Revan.

"He'll be okay," said the doctor. "It was nasty stuff, but I managed to purge it from his system. He'll usually be up in a week or so, but the Medigun will lessen that time considerably."

Revan shook his head. "He was one of my finest pilots during the Mandalorian Wars. I'd rather he be ready sooner still." He focused on his breathing, and then stretched out an arm. He began emitting an aura of the Force, affecting everyone in the room bar HK-47.

"Ooh," remarked Vitani. "Tingly."

"You have healing powers too?" asked McNinja.

Revan nodded curtly. "Not my forte," he said, "but they're there if I need them."

Carth came to slowly, and let out a pained groan. He opened his eyes to see Darth Revan leaning over his hospital bed, wearing the same black cloak and mask which has made him so frighteningly iconic. Behind him, HK-47 stared at Carth with his piercing red robotic eyes. Carth started.

"Easy," said Revan. "Aren't you pleased to see me?"

Carth blinked. "Revan?"

"Yes."

"Are you... am I... what's happening?"

"Your guess is as good as mine."

"You were concussed," said Dr McNinja, catching Carth's attention. "Some confusion is to be expected. Revan was telling us how you served under him during a war?"

Carth sank into the bed, relaxing slightly. "Y-yeah. That's true. I've worked with him more than once."

"When I heard you were injured, I decided to check on you," Revan said.

"Interjection: Despite my best attempts to dissuade him," interjected HK-47.

"Yes, HK wasn't quite as worried about you," chuckled Revan. "You know how he is."

"I certainly do," replied Carth, shooting the droid a glare. "Where are we?"

"Specifically, we're in the medical bay of a giant wooden airship, buried in sand," said Revan. "As for the general, that'll take longer to explain. I'd love to catch you up myself, but I'm needed back in the boardroom. I'm sure the good doctor can give you an outline. Get well soon, Carth."

Revan gave a brief wave and exited the room, HK-47 trailing behind him. Dr McNinja raised his eyebrow at his patient's disturbed reaction, but ultimately put his pale face down to the poison.

##

As Revan left the med bay, he ran into Sokka.

"I've been looking for you," said the young Water Tribe warrior. "I was hoping I could sit in on your meetings some time, listen to tactics and stuff. Could I?"

It was, of course, impossible to tell from his mask, but Sokka got the impression that Revan was looking through him. "You're friends with the Avatar, correct?" he said, ignoring the question.

Sokka's eyes narrowed. "I am. Why?"

Revan began to walk away. "Just let him know I want him to... be prepared." HK-47 glared at Sokka before following Revan.

Sokka watched them go. "So, is that a no, or...?"

* * *

The Pyro fired its shotgun repeatedly at its new opponents; more gang members, this time clothed in green bin bags and dirty paper. They fired haphazardly at the trio as civilians fled in all directions.

Pyro shot the closest Dust Man to it and whirled around to kill another. Its gun clicked, signifying a lack of ammo. Pyro hurriedly switched its firearm for its axe, but didn't move fast enough to prevent the transient from aiming his automatic rifle at it.

Thankfully, an arrow struck the Dust Man in the head, and he collapsed. The Pyro gave a thankful wave to Hawkeye before charging at the largest collection of Dust Men, his fire axe raised high.

"First, drug dealing tar-monsters," noted Hawkeye, kicking a quadrupedal yellow monster made of garbage, "then, psychic hobos. This town is messed up."

"Just maybe," added Skulduggery. He flew through the air, the air rippling his suit. He was avoiding the attack of a tall and bulky golem, also glowing yellow and comprised of urban waste. The golem was holding one arm forward, firing small particles of trash with enough speed, frequency and force to accurate simulate a very high-calibre machine-gun. Skulduggery flew in a circle around it, pelting it with fire he summoned from his hands.

As Pyro finished off the remained footsoldiers, the golem suddenly jerked. It fell forward on its knees, and its featureless torso split open, revealing a man inside the golem, presumably controlling it. Skulduggery called to Hawkeye "The sparrow flies south for winter!"

"What?" asked Hawkeye, shooting at more of the small monsters.

"Shoot the golem guy!"

"Oh!"

Hawkeye selected an arrow from his quiver and fired it at the exposed figure, seemingly without even looking at his target. The arrow struck the man and then exploded violently. The golem ceased glowing and fell forward, tumbling into lifeless pieces.

The trio collected themselves and stood back to back. A crowd of civilians circled around them and proceeded to cheer them for defeating the gang.

"Uh, nothing to see here, people!" tried Skulduggery lamely. "Just a... burst gas pipe. No magic." The crowd ignored his words and he shrugged. "I tried. Nice to get some recognition, I guess."

"Enjoy it," remarked Hawkeye, winking at a girl. "Comes with the territory."

Pyro stared at the cheering people through the lens of its gasmask, tilting its head at them. It raised its axe and walked towards the nearest person to it.

Skulduggery grabbed it and pulled it backwards. "No! Bad Pyro!" he chided. "No axing nice people."

"Hut heh huh hohheehuhs!" protested the Pyro. It folded its arms irritably.

* * *

Dr Horrible trekked silently through the wastes. It had been a day since he'd left Maleficent's castle; a day without rest or company. He was glad to have left his former villainous companions, but at the same time, he yearned to talk to someone, anyone. The isolation was beginning to gnaw at the Scientist's already fragile psyche. As he walked forward he kept his arms tightly folded. A bitingly cold wind begun to mockingly throw sand into the doctor's face, so he had pulled his goggles down. Horrible wasn't entirely sure where he was going, but he was determined to get there as quickly as possible.

He crested a sand-dune and saw a motley collection of heavily armed heroes staring up at him. Horrible tensed, hoping they would show mercy and compassion.

The silence was broken by one, a man in red armour, shouting "Look! Someone to shoot!" He then rushed forward, firing his shotgun. Horrible turned around, tripped over his own feet, and tumbled down the dune.

The Scientist groaned, dizzy. By the time he looked up, the soldier was pointing his shotgun right in Horrible's face.

"That's a real pretty coat you got there," said Sarge. "Allow me to recolour it a nicer shade of red!"

A man in a black jacket appeared by Sarge. He at first was equally enthusiastic about shooting Horrible, but upon seeing the doctor up close, his face clouded with recognition. "Cool it, man!" he snapped. "I know this guy."

"You do?" asked Sarge confusedly.

"Yeah, he was the villain I faced. Alright guy. We let him escape."

"You _let him escape_?!" thundered Sarge. "I'm fairly sure that that's not the most effective military tactic! And I'm the guy whose plans all revolve around killing one of my own soldiers!"

Horrible tried to shuffle backwards during this conversation, less to feed hopes of escape and more to put distance, however minimal, between himself and Sarge's shotgun. Without even looking at him, Sarge grabbed him by the ankle and dragged him back.

The other members of the patrol had now by caught up and encircled Sarge, Joe, and Dr Horrible. Jak, the unofficial leader, stepped up to the scene, scowling.

"What's this?" demanded Jak.

"We found the guy I was put against," explained Joe. "Sarge wants to kill him."

"I've gone dangerously long without shooting someone!" protested Sarge self-righteously.

"I can give you other people to shoot!" said Horrible quickly. "I know where the other villains are."

"Others?" said Jak. Horrible nodded.

"So, you're a turncoat as well?" growled Sarge. "Disgraceful! You're just asking for it now!"

"Sarge," said Jak.

"What?"

"Shut your mouth or I'll break your little toy gun." Jak turned to Angry Joe. "It's your call, Joe," he said. "I'll let you decide what we do with him."

Joe considered this choice, but the answer was clear. "I don't wanna kill him. Let's take him back to the ship."

Dr Horrible gave him a weak smile. "Thanks."

"Humph," said Sarge. "Pansy."

* * *

Skulduggery, Hawkeye and Pyro stood surveying the Blast Site. The name was as bluntly honest as the area itself. Whatever had exploded here had been powerful. The site stretched for five city blocks. Most of the buildings which once stood there had been completely levelled. Half a garage stood, jaggedly bisected by the explosion, and a high-rise hotel leaned at a dangerous angle over it. The rest of the site was tarmac twisted and pulled by intense heat. The ground was completely uneven, and naked power lines occasionally protruded from the ground.

"What a wonderfully cheery place," said Skulduggery.

Hawkeye gave him a horrified look. "Seriously?"

Skulduggery turned to him slowly. "No," he said blankly. "Of course not. It's not cheery at all. I'm being sarcastic."

"See, I was hoping you were," clarified Hawkeye. "It's just hard to tell with you sometimes."

"Why? Was it my tone?"

"Actually, it was your facial expression. Or lack thereof." They shared an awkward silence for a few seconds. "You don't have any skin," added Hawkeye helpfully.

"I'm aware," was Skulduggery's answer.

The Pyro ran forward, eager to examine the new area. Skulduggery and Hawkeye fell into step behind it.

"What do you think caused this?" asked Hawkeye, stepping gingerly over a sparking mass of broken wires.

"A superweapon of some kind?" hazarded Skulduggery. "Whatever it was, it was massive."

"And it caused such untold sadness..." added a soft third voice.

Hawkeye and Skulduggery froze. "Pyro," said Hawkeye slowly. "Did you suddenly learn how to talk?"

"Nuh-uh!" said the Pyro. It pointed to someone who had appeared before them. "Huh huh _huh_ huherhuhher!"

He was a middle-aged man wearing black combat wear. He floated in the air, his legs curled up under his torso. His hair was thin and white, slicked back away from his face. He wore square spectacles.

"Sad," he murmured. "So sad."

The trio raised their respective weapons, prepared for a battle. The Sorrow didn't seem to notice.

"The three of you have each caused so much death and pain..." he said. An unearthly fog began to roll in, smothering what little light the night offered. "You will now be shown your work," added the ghost with a hardening tone. A tear of blood ran down his cheek, and one of the lens of his glasses cracked.

From the ground, an army of disfigured ghosts rose. They shambled, moaning, towards the trio, arms outstretched and faces wrought with pain and illness.

"Zombie ghosts, leave this place," quipped Skulduggery, floating just above their reach.

"'But this is our house!'" replied Hawkeye, flipping over one.

"Huh huh Huh Hudda hud hud huh huh huhhuh hud, huh hu huu hud duh huuh, huh huh huh hut huuh," concluded the Pyro, running in a wide circle.

"**Enough!**" shouted the Sorrow, startling the three. "You make light of your actions, and only serve anger the dead further."

"Uh hah?" taunted the Pyro. "Hah huh hoh huh _huu_ huhhu hu huhu-"

Before it could finish, the Sorrow twitched violently. A spiral emerged from him, twisting and mis-shaping the air it passed through, and slammed into the Pyro. The Pyro clutched its head and fell over. The ghosts soon surrounded it, and it disappeared.

Hawkeye began firing at the Sorrow, but the ghost showed no reaction to his assault. The ghosts around Hawkeye began to swarm him, pulling at his arms and putting off his aim. He paled and shivered – their grip was more than just cold.

"Dammit, get off me!" he yelled, desperation creeping into his voice. "Loki was the one who -"

The Sorrow cut him off with another spiral. Hawkeye roared in pain when it struck him, and he collapsed, swallowed by a mass of the dead.

The Sorrow turned his attention to Skulduggery, who was still hovering in the air. "You have beaten death before," noted the Sorrow, with a hint of disapproval. "Do you mean to attempt the deed again?"

Skulduggery floated silently for a few moments, and then gently descended to ground level, towards the forest of translucent hands which reached up towards him. "No," he said. "Do what you will." He landed and made no move to fight off the ghosts once they began to pull at him.

The Sorrow examined Skulduggery, as though seeing into his soul. "You killed so many in rage. And you continue killing to this day. But in you is a sadness – and those you kill, you kill for the greater good."

"Something like that," said Skulduggery.

The fog rolled back, and with it, the ghosts withdrew also. Skulduggery and the Sorrow were left alone in the Blast Site.

"The spirit of the warrior will always be with you," smiled the ghost.

"I guess shooting you now would be considered rude, would it?" asked Skulduggery.

The Sorrow ignored him. Instead, he turned his head and focused on some point in the middle distance. "There is far worse on the horizon. I can only hope that when the time comes, you will make the right decision."

"Because I'm seriously considering it. I mean, I know it wouldn't hurt you, but I'd like to take my anger out a little."

The Sorrow bowed his head, a single tear of blood rolling down his cheek. A gentle wind blew through the area, lightly pulling on Skulduggery's jacket. The Sorrow began to fade away, becoming transparent, until Skulduggery was left standing alone, a solitary figure in the vast gash of scarred tarmac. The sun rose to find the detective by himself, the last one standing in what had been, not for the first time, a site of great sadness and conflict.

"So that's a no on shooting you then," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Skulduggery's foul mood had lifted upon being reunited with his partner in crime-fighting. He and Valkyrie were strolling on the deck of Halberd, discussing the situation in the fading twilight.

"So, those are all the facts," Valkyrie finished. "Any ideas?"

"It certainly is... interesting. It might have been a Teleporter," said Skulduggery. "Actually, since we changed dimensions, a Shunter might be more likely."

"But don't both of those need to be touching their target to affect them?" asked Valkyrie.

"Well, yes."

"So, it couldn't be either of them."

"Well, yes."

"...Awesome."

They came to the front of the ship and looked out into the desert. Skulduggery spotted something. "Who are they?" he asked, pointing to a group of armed men approaching the ship.

"That's a patrol that went out earlier," explained Valkyrie. Her eyes landed on a white figure in their midst. "Hey, that guy wasn't with them before."

Skulduggery cocked his head. "Looks like they found something then."

##

Dr Horrible took in the Halberd. Even crashed and at an angle, it was quite a sight to behold.

"What's the matter?" grumbled Sarge, still annoyed. "Nervous?"

Horrible made himself shrug nonchalantly. "Eh," he said. "Tomorrow's a brand new day."

* * *

_**Review or something whatever**_


	21. Day 20: Durn Freaks

New Marais was once a humid town with many reasons to visit. Presently, it's a humid town with many reasons to give it the widest berth possible. However, evasion was not an option for the three people who had recently arrived, and were currently bemusedly exploring the streets.

The first was a man in Spartan armour, grey for the most part with a yellow trim. He held an assault rifle, and a pistol was strapped to his hip. He took point, since it would would be accurate to describe him as the most urban-savvy of the three.

Behind him was a girl in a beige and green tunic, not dissimilar to the uniform of an especially short soldier. Her black hair was in a large bun, and some bangs spilled out of it over her face. Such a hairstyle would greatly inhibit the sight of most people, but judging from the girl's milky-white, unfocused eyes, it was probable that her hair was not the reason she wasn't looking at her surroundings. Regardless of her evident blindness, she had been the least perturbed of the three by the sudden change of location; instead, she had balled her fists and spread her bare feet widely, anticipating a fight.

She had been verbally pacified by the person next to her, a blond man in medieval wear: a white shirt with blue sleeves, chainmail trousers, thick blue boots and an iron helmet. He had large brown eyes and a natural smile. On his left arm was a circular shield of red, blue, and white, and in his right hand was a long golden sword with a jagged blade.

"You sure you know where we're going, _Agent Washington_?" asked the girl. She put a distasteful emphasis on the name; it spoke of too many rules for her liking.

"I have a better idea than you do," snapped the Freelancer.

Toph gave him a shocked glare, and Hype raised his eyebrows.

"Oh God that sounds terrible," Wash apologized quickly. "I meant because I'm more used to cities than you. Like, I..."

There was an awkward silence. Wash was almost glad when they were rudely interrupted.

"Hey!" a voice shouted from a rooftop. Wash and Hype looked up to see a man in an orange hockey mask glaring down at them.

"Durnit, boys!" he called in a thick Southern accent to someone behind him. "We gert more freaks!" He hefted a rifle menacingly.

"Dammit," muttered Washington. "I'll take care of these guys. Hype, you get Toph to safety."

"That won't be necessary," sniffed Toph.

"Oh?" snapped Washington.

Toph stamped a foot in demonstration. A spike of concrete fired out of the building their aggressor was standing on, and sent him flying gaily into the air. Hype craned his neck up to follow his ascent into the sky.

"Oh," said Wash simply.

The man's friends quickly ran to the roof and opened fire.

"Let's crack some skulls!" yelled Toph.

* * *

M Bison joined Dr Doom in the small room in which the latter had been constructing his second portal. The device, larger than the last but the same shape, sat proudly in the centre of the room.

"Nearly finished then?" he chirped. Doom turned slowly.

"Not quite. It will not serve its original purpose. Instead, **Doom **has been requested to modify it to travel through local space, not between dimensions."

"Indeed? Why?"

"Behold!" Doom produced a small radio he had apparently made himself. The sound of Dr Horrible softly singing to himself was broadcasted.

"~_I cannot believe my eyes_," came his pleasant tenor, "_how the world's full of __**filth**__ and __**lies**__...~_"

"_Now_ can we shoot him?" asked another voice.

"We will use the portal to travel to the co-ordinates **Doom** has received from this reconnaissance device, planted on Horrible's person," stated Dr Doom. "Once there, Maleficent has instructed us to wreak as much death, destruction, and **doom** as possible."

Bison clapped his hands like an excited child. "Oh, how splendid!"

* * *

Their progress through the first part of the city was swift. The second section, however, gave them slightly more trouble.

Toph tore a chunk of stone from a nearby building and threw it at the horrific quadruped in front of her. The monster, a hissing creature with a terrifying tentacled maw, possessed a thick black hide which conventional attacks bounced off of. Toph was satisfied when the beast staggered from the impact of her blow.

"What are these things?!" asked Wash, emptying a pistol clip into one of the smaller, more humanoid monsters. He switched back to his assault rifle when he saw another horde of them was incoming. Hype just shook his head in response, adding his crossbow bolts to Wash's bullets.

Meanwhile, the Ravager Toph was facing let out a piercing wail at the diminutive Earthbender before burrowing into the ground below it.

Toph laughed. "Of all the things you could have done, that was _really stupid_." She made a slight motion of moving her two hands closer together. Underground, the Ravager shuddered and came to a stop.

Behind Toph, Washington downed the last of the Corrupted while Hype sheathed his weapon.

"Good work everyone," said Wash. "Let's keep looking for this Joker guy."

The soldier took point, reloading his rifle. Toph and Hype fell into step behind him.

Turning a corner, they came to a police officer staring confusedly at a bomb affixed to a wall. The officer was standing just one foot away from the bomb, which was counting down menacingly in a clownish voice.

"45, 44, 43, 42," sang the bomb, pre-recorded.

"Uh," said Toph. "Someone mind explaining to me what's going on down there?"

"That idiot's going to get himself blown up, that's what's going on," said Wash callously.

"Let's see," the officer was saying to himself. "Is it the blue wire I cut, or the red… I've forgotten…"

"Perhaps we should help him?" suggested Hype.

Wash sighed. "Alright. You guys wait here, this'll only take a second."

With that Wash leisurely began to approach the bomb. There was no point hurrying, seeing as the timer was moving slowly.

"31, 30," went the bomb, "Twenty-nine, twenty-ei- _**SURPRISE**_!"

The bomb erupted into a fireball, and disturbingly, some confetti rained down as well. The coloured paper floated merrily in the air, setting down lightly on what little was left of the police officer.

"Oh, shit!" said Washington. Then, because he was at a loss for words, he said, "Oh _shit_!" again.

Reflexively, Hype covered Toph's eyes, to little effect.

"Let's… let's move on," said Wash after a while.

* * *

Angry Joe pushed Dr Horrible into the board room. The Scientist scanned the occupants with no small amount of confusion. There was an elderly man with a large grey beard; a man in a blue suit; a man in a tall tophat and orange sweater; a man in a white shirt, squatting in his chair; a raccoon in a blue jumpsuit, and the same turtle with thick glasses and a wheelchair he had previously faced. At the head of the table sat a figure draped entirely in black robes, fingers steepled.

"Uh," said Horrible, "hi."

"Good morning!" greeted Iroh cheerfully. Revan gave him a look.

"I'd like to open with a few questions," said L.

"Um, okay."

"Detective," snapped Revan, "I'm in charge here."

"I'm well aware," replied L calmly, "but I really must insist."

"I think we should let him speak," said Phoenix.

Revan stared at Phoenix for longer than the lawyer was comfortable with, but eventually said "Proceed."

"So," said L, "you were expelled from the castle the other so-called villains are in, correct?"

"Yeah..."

"And why?"

"Well... they said I was a disgrace for not trying to kill my opponents."

"Interesting... and yet, they punish you via exile."

"So?" said Rocket Raccoon.

"Think about it. They tell him that he's weak for allowing his enemies to live. Then, they let him live."

Phoenix shook his head. "An obvious contradiction."

"Precisely, Mr Wright."

"And!" added Horrible, eager to help, "some of them were less nice to me than they usually were, for no reason."

"Further evidence to prove my hunch," murmured L. "They let the doctor live for an ulterior motive."

"_Egads_!" exclaimed Bentley. "They've _planned_ to have him come to us!"

"And if they have a bug..." postulated Rocket Raccoon.

"... They're listening to us at this very moment," finished Layton.

"And that, in summation, is my theory," said L, calmly eating a sweet.

##

In the tower, M Bison grinned, impressed by L's deduction. "Not bad, eh?"

Dr Doom scowled, not sharing in Bison's light-hearted mood. "Bah. It is nothing. This room is seemingly a coalition of the intellectual leaders of the group opposing us. It is understandable that at least one is halfway intelligent."

M Bison's smile, as ever, failed to diminish in the slightest. "Are you saying we opened the drawer where they keep the sharp knives?" he joked.

##

"In any case, the course of action is clear," continued L, making the sweet's wrapper dance between his fingertips. "We find and carefully disable the device. And it goes without saying that we say nothing until Dr Horrible leaves the room."

Angry Joe grabbed Horrible lightly by the arm. "Alright buddy, let's see if this bug is well hidden enough to not to be found by a ninja." With that he dragged the doctor out of the room, heading towards the med bay.

It was only after Joe shut the door behind him that the conversation in the board room recommenced. "Brilliant deduction, L," said Bentley.

"Oh please," responded the scruffy detective, studying the ceiling disinterestedly. "It was nothing."

"Hardly," said Revan, but his tone was far from congratulatory. "This was a bold move from our aggressors. We have to assume the worst."

"The worst being that they now know our location and may strike us directly at any time," continued Layton gravely.

"Oh. That's wonderful," said Phoenix lamely.

"We could begin setting up defensive measures," offered Iroh uneasily.

"If by 'defensive measures', you mean 'traps', I'm with you," said Rocket Raccoon. "With a bit of planning we might take out a few of them before they even get to us."

Layton shook his head. "I'm afraid that may not be possible. These are intelligent and well-equipped opponents, and we're quite exposed. They could approach in any direction, and by any means."

"Well, what's the alternative to defending ourselves?" objected Phoenix.

"If I may be so bold as to offer a counter suggestion?" Bentley put forward. "By making Dr Horrible defect to us with a bug hidden on his person, our enemies have managed to locate our position. But in doing so, they may have allowed us to do the exact same to them."

Revan leaned forward. "Go on."

"It's simple, really," explained the turtle. "If the device has a visual feed, then it may be possible for us to extract the information it's recorded - play the footage backwards, and it's a _map_ to Horrible's starting point!"

Iroh stroked his beard. "An excellent idea. In any battle, a careless attack can leave one defenceless - something our opponents have just demonstrated."

"And he who strikes first wins," murmured L.

"Of course, if it's not a camera," Phoenix pointed out, "then the plan won't work."

There was a brief pause while the group considered this.

Suddenly, Layton smiled to himself. "It's an magnificent idea, Bentley, but you may be overcomplicating it," he said.

"How so?"

"As ever, the solution lies just outside of the parameters set forward in the puzzle. We became so preoccupied with the bug that we almost forgot about its unwitting host - Dr Horrible. If his claims about defecting are true, then surely he can guide us back himself."

Phoenix stroked his chin. "I for one thought he seemed genuine."

"So we know where Team Evil lives," said Rocket Raccoon. "The question is, what do we do with that information?"

"That should be obvious." L spoke again for the first time in a while. "We should focus our efforts on reclaiming the Death Note."

When no-one else responded to this statement, L continued "As the Professor can attest, it's not something to be left in such twisted hands. Light Yagami may be plotting to murder every one of us as we speak - in fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he was the one masterminding the efforts against us."

Rocket Raccoon muttered something under his breath about Light Yagami's fan club.

"We should consider such a move very carefully," said Iroh. "It would be no small undertaking."

"Actually, small may well be the best way of playing this," said Bentley. "We have enough stealth operatives here to pull off something like this. With luck, they won't be expecting it: we slip in, grab the book, and slip out with_out_ causing a fight."

"I'm normally against _subtle_ plans," said RR, "but yeah, that might be a smarter option. We've got shuttles downstairs and plenty decent pilots kicking around, so transport's sorted."

"Very well, gentlemen," announced Revan. "It seems as though we have a plan of action."

* * *

Azula and Maleficent would be the only ones left in the castle.

The others would be gone.

Maleficent would have her guard down.

With the magical modifications she was making to the Death Note, she'd even have her shields off.

Azula stood outside Maleficent's room, ostensibly to guard her.

She twirled a small bolt of lightning around her fingers.

Soon.

* * *

"It's official," said Wash, staring up at the monster. "This is the worst city ever. Of all time."

A man with a purple suit, green hair, and a white face laughed at them from a nearby rooftop. "Where's your sense of humour?" he called. "This is comic **gold**!"

He gestured to the two giant, icy humanoids which the three were fighting. Normally, they were the usual colour of ice. However, the Joker had painted them bright shades of purple and green, to match his own colour scheme. Toph shot stone at one, while Hype and Washington chipped away at the second.

Hype sent a blast of fire out of his shield, melting away at the monster's leg. Washington unloaded a clip into the creature's torso, to little effect.

Toph sent up a spike of stone which caught her adversary near the head. She twisted it and a face-plate of sorts came off, revealing a gnarled blue face.

"There!" yelled Washington. He unloaded his assault rifle into the creature's face. It gave a terrible roar, freezing up. Suddenly, it shattered into ice particles which flew everywhere.

Hype raised his shield and a dragon made from pure fire burst out of it. He caught the other monster on its face-plate with enough force to melt through to its weak point. The creature also collapsed and exploded. Hype turned proudly to his team-mates, resting his sword by his side and smiling.

From his rooftop, Joker sulked. "Spoiling the party so soon, hmm?" He produced from the folds of his purple dinner jacket a pistol. He aimed it at Hype and pulled the trigger. Instead of a bullet, a metal bar came out, on which hung a red flag with the bold letters '**BANG!**' emblazoned on it. He pulled the trigger a second time and the bar shot out, impaling Hype's chest and coming out the other side.

Wash watched in shock as Hype succumbed to his wounds. Oddly, he didn't collapse; instead, he slowly took on a position, kneeling on one knee while pointing his sword in the air. Then, with a flash of green, he became stone.

"Okay, what the _hell _just happened to Hype?!" yelled Toph.

Joker slid down a telephone pole, laughing merrily. "No idea!" he said truthfully. "But boy, did it _rock_!"

As soon as his feet touched the ground, Toph could 'see' him through the earth.

She could even tell he was smiling.

Toph roared and sent Hype's body hurtling into the Joker, knocking the insane clown off of his feet. The Joker hit the ground and rolled, well used to such brief aerial excursions, but before he had a chance to stand and gather himself Hype slammed into him several more times. Toph was unrelenting in her assault, and it was only because Hype had morphed into very strong stone that he didn't crumble under the pressure he was being exposed to. Wash stood and watched silently as Hype's statuesque form moved up and down, moving in the rhythm of the Earthbender's rage.

After what seemed like hours Toph raised Hype one last time, exhaled, and released him. Hype fell to earth a final time, landing once more on the Joker, eliciting a pitiful squeak from some toy on the madman's person. Toph turned away and glowered at the space in front of her.

Wash stood nervously. Dealing with little girls was never part of his job description. Dealing with an enraged and grieving little girl was far worse. Dealing with an enraged and grieving little girl who could crush him with the very ground he stood on was something he didn't especially want to try his hand at.

Nonetheless, Wash was a Freelancer, and decided to approach the situation as one. Bluntly, he asked "Are you alright, soldier?"

There was no response from Toph.

"Hype wouldn't approve of this attitude," Wash ventured. "He also probably wouldn't have approved of you using his body like a battering ram, but I guess that ship's sailed."

Toph remained still, but suddenly chuckled, to Wash's relief. "Heh. I guess not. And… I'll be fine. It's just a shame that… you know..."

"Yeah," said Wash. "A real pity."

"_Au contraire_!" yelled a voice behind them. Wash turned to see the Joker standing woozily. He was bloodied and clearly in a lot of pain, but this didn't prevent him from holding a grenade dangerously close to Hype. "I think it's quite the improvement!"

Toph punched Wash in the side. "Idiot! If you didn't distract me with your girly talk I would've sensed him get up!"

"What? But, I-"

"Shut your pie-holes and listen!" commanded the Joker. "I have a joke that I think will make your stony-faced friend just _crack_ up! Ahem; What did the blind girl say to the space moron when they were just about to watch their friend _die_?"

Something clicked inside Wash's brain, and he calmly drew his pistol. He aimed and fired a shot into the Joker's wrist, sending the grenade bouncing away harmlessly.

The Joker yelled in pained, grabbing his wound. "Gaaah! Wait, you didn't let me get to the _punchli_-" This was as far as the Joker got into his sentence, because at that moment Wash shot the clown cleanly between the eyes, killing him.

"Finally," muttered Wash, as Joker crumpled. "Someone should have done that years ago."

Toph rolled Hype over towards them. Despite the punishment he had just endured, the stone was completely intact. It didn't take a prodigal Earthbender to see that the rock was highly unusual in almost every aspect, even leaving aside the fact that two minutes ago it was a breathing knight. It was grey and nondescript, as though representing the concept of rocks generally as opposed to any in particular.

"Well, we killed an insane clown and saw a knight turn into a statue," announced Wash, reloading his weapons. "I think it's time to call it a day."

Toph was about to respond bitingly, turning her head in the direction of the Freelancer's voice, when something bizarre happened. One moment, the solid paved streets of New Marais were under her, the next, she was somewhere else entirely. The floors were wooden, and judging by how they only continued downward for a short while, they _were_ floors, and not the ground. The space was enclosed, and there was a crowd around her.

"Welcome to the Halberd," said a smooth voice. "Please relax. We don't know either." Toph relaxed her stance slightly, but guardedly. She and Wash began to speak to those on the bridge.

Deadpool slid up to Hype, who had also teleported, and peered at him.

"Cool," he joked, "we could use a figurehead." He yelped in pain as something swatted the back of his head. He looked around to see an incensed Meta Knight had struck him with the flat side of Galaxia.

"Do not make light of this, jester," the captain growled. "This man is a fellow knight, and his condition is serious."

"Is there something you can do?" asked Toph.

Meta Knight examined Hype for a moment. "Probably not, unfortunately," he announced at length. "But I will leave it with our ship's physician. Or rather, Deadpool will." He turned to the mercenary. "Carry Sir Hype to the med bay. By yourself."

Deadpool threw his eyes to heaven and hefted the statue. "Fiiiiine. Jeez."

Clank cleared his throat. "Agent Washington, there are some men downstairs in the same armour as you."

"Oh God. Are their colours red and blue?"

"Yes."

Wash held back a sigh. "Yay. Wonderful. Friendship."

"And Ms Bei Fong, I've been instructed to guide you outside."

"Why? What's there?"

"A task."

##

"You want me to lift the ship out of the sand?" Toph asked incredulously.

"Well, we've tried a couple of times, and we need to get it out," explained Aang.

"Unless it's too hard for the _greatest_ Earthbender alive," taunted Sokka.

Toph punched him. "Of course it's not. But I'm standing on sand, so I can't see that well, and it's really deep... You're smirking at me, aren't you?"

"Good guess," said Sokka.

Toph rolled her sightless eyes. "Fine. I'll lift the stupid ship!"

She raised her arms, and then strained, as though lifting a heavy weight. Spikes of stone gradually rose from the ground, pushing aside the sand. She paused, realigned one spike, and pushed it up by itself. She repeated this until the ship was rising out of ground, sand pouring off of its sides. The sight was majestic to say the least. Toph made a motion with one arm and the spikes on one side grew larger than their symmetrical counterparts, which undid the slight tilt. Finally, she gestured upwards a final time, hefting the ship from the sand. The Halberd sat on its makeshift drydock, the large metal mask at the bow gleaming proudly in the sun.

Toph heard a sound coming from the Halberd. "What's that?"

"People applauding you, Toph," answered Aang proudly.

"Oh," said Toph. "Yeah, that makes sense." She bowed.

* * *

_**Nothing like getting praise for doing what you love. Oh hey, a review box. *cough***_


	22. Day 21: The Killer Supreme

City 17 is a depressing place. Along the canals, citizens walk to work, all wearing the same blue jumpsuit. They kept their eyes to the ground, fearful of drawing the attention of the brutal Civil Protection officers. The uniform of the CP is indicative of their masters, the Combine: grey, but intricately designed and ridged, and well equipped to deal with any dissenters. Soulless lights stare out of their helmet's eyes, examining every passerby.

There was one they focused on in particular. A teenage girl, wearing blue clothing that wasn't the manufactured staple worn by those around her. It was a dress with a white trim, apparently made for climates far colder. She wore a blue pendant around her neck, and her brown hair was styled in two loops and a braid.

Two Civil Protection officers noticed her and shared tight nods. They strode briskly in front of the girl, blocking her path.

"Citizen," said one, his voice sounding inhumanly robotic. "Come with us."

Katara looked them both in the eyes – or at least, she tried to. "Why?" she asked defiantly. "Is walking a crime?"

"No," stated the other. He drew out a long taser-esque weapon. "But refusing to co-operate with Civil Protection personnel is."

Katara took a step back. The officers were about to take a step forward when someone tapped their shoulders.

"Hey!" They turned to see a woman with dreadlocks and dark skin. She wore a collection of bangles and necklaces, and she had sharp metal ornaments on the tips of the fingers on her left hand. Her clothes were dark and their cut left very little to the imagination. She gave the officers a toothy, malicious grin and continued speaking in her Cajun accent. "If my friend doesn't want to come with you, you'd better do what she says."

The officers knew immediately something was wrong. There was no way the woman could have come up behind them so quickly. The one with the stunstick activated his radio and began calling for backup in code. The other drew a pistol and aimed at the woman's head.

Nix's grin only grew wider. Two thick black tentacles shot out of the ground, encasing the officer's legs. Nix beat the two guards off of each other, then tossed their limp bodies into the canal. She turned her smile toward Katara. The girl returned it, albeit with a twinge of disapproval at her partner's enthusiasm for causing pain.

Another contingent of officers burst from a corner. They were numerous and armed with various large firearms.

Katara reacted quickly. She raised both arms and performed a motion as though pulling something up. A wall of water rose from the canal and placed itself in between the two and the Combine. The officers were surprised, but quickly realized that water wouldn't stop their bullets. Just before they opened fire, Katara tensed her arms and the wall of water became a wall of ice. A hail of bullets struck the wall, chipping through it.

"Damn," said Nix appreciatively, "you make Kuo look like a kid throwin' snowballs. Hold on a sec while I deal with these goons." Nix disappeared, replaced with curling black smoke. The ice blocked Katara's view, so what Nix did to the officers was a mystery. Judging from sound alone, it involved fire, breaking bones, and a lot of yelling.

A harsher sound cut above that, and Katara turned around. One of the Combine's gunships, a humongous cybernetic insect, was closing in. Katara dived into an alleyway for cover.

Nix teleported next to her in a burst of red and black. "You see that thing? What are we gonna do?"

Katara gingerly peeked out. She smiled at what she saw. "We wait," she said. "Here comes our friend."

Rocketing towards the gunship was a man with short brown hair. His costume was green with black, and a logo was emblazoned on his chest. He flew through the air thanks to a green ring on his right hand which bore the same logo as his chest. The ring was emitting solid light which surrounded him in a thin film. He glared at the monster from under a thin green domino mask.

The gunship levelled its frontal cannon at Green Lantern and opened fire with machine gun bullets of a huge calibre. Green Lantern produced a shield from his ring which deflected the first few rounds, then flew past the range of the gun. He came to a stop at the rear of the ship and continued to hover there, moving with the ship when it tried to turn. Just below him was the massive rotors which kept the gunship aloft. Green Lantern willed a cuboid shape the size of a train carriage into being, and stabbed it into the gunship's rotors.

Nix whistled. "Nice piece of bling, isn't it? My jewellery doesn't do that."

The gunship fell helplessly into the canal, Green Lantern descending with it to keep the cuboid in place. Katara ran forward, lifting the water on both sides of the gunship. She then covered the ship completely and froze it in solid ice.

Green Lantern touched down next to his team-mates. "Everything alright?"

"Just fine," smiled Katara.

"Great. Then let's keep looking for Scapegrace."

* * *

Dr McNinja put his stetoscope against Hype's chest and listened intently. "Nope," he announced. "Not much I can do."

"What's wrong with him?" asked Vitani dubiously.

"A curse," diagnosed McNinja confidently. "Of a very high magnitude. Cast by a wizard of almost godlike power. There's a lot of magic in this poor guy." The doctor wrapped his stethoscope around his neck and poked his head into the corridor. "Hey, Deadpool?"

Deadpool wandered in. "El doctorino?"

"Do me a favour and get this unfortunate hunk of geology out of my tiny practice."

Deadpool sagged. "Seriously?"

"Yeah. Put him somewhere out of the way."

Deadpool sighed. He hefted Hype again, muttering how he _thought_ Dr McNinja was _cool_, and dragged the knight out.

"And now, I'd better get down to the hangar," declared McNinja. "Not much of an infiltration team without a ninja."

"You sure I'll be okay here by myself?" asked Vitani worriedly.

Dr McNinja's eyes conveyed his smile. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah, I guess," replied Vitani. "It's not the end of the world, right?"

McNinja's brow furrowed. "You had to say that, didn't you?"

"Sorry..."

"You will be."

##

In the hangar, the targets had been moved aside and the shuttles prepared for launch. A team had been selected, either for stealth, security, or simply because they could fly by themselves and hence wouldn't take up a seat on the shuttles. War Machine, Iron Man, and Thor and Skulduggery comprised the latter category, and the latter of the latter was bidding farewell to Valkyrie.

"Call me if you need me."

"I will," grinned Valkyrie. "I'll be spending your absence consoling Murray. He's annoyed that Sly's going somewhere without him."

Skulduggery nodded. "Understandable. I'm annoyed you and Ghastly can't come. But with luck, we'll be back soon."

Dr McNinja strode into the room and took the last available seat in a shuttle. He sat into the middle shuttle. Raiden and Washington nodded to him from the other seats, and O'Neill gave him a brisk wave from the pilot's chair.

"Doesn't look too complex a vessel, if you don't mind me saying," noted McNinja.

O'Neill nodded. "You wouldn't need much experience fly one of these. But I've been dying to fly something, so I'm glad to come."

In another shuttle, Revan counted himself, Jak, Snake, and Carth, their pilot. In the last, Sly sat chatting to Fox and She-Hulk while Dr Horrible sat in friendly silence. The bug, found embedded to the inside of his goggles, had been destroyed.

"I'm kinda worried about flying this thing," frowned Fox. "It's a little flimsy."

"That's why I de-hulked," said She-Hulk, who was indeed in her human form. "But hopefully we'll be there and back without too much trouble." Fox shrugged uncertainly.

Sly spoke into his binocucom. "We ready?"

"Just got our last," said Washington. "We're good to go."

"Myself and the others are prepped," announced War Machine.

"Let's go already," snapped Revan.

"Comm link active!" declared Rocket Raccoon. "We're here if you need us. Open her up, Meta Knight!"

"Our thoughts are with you," stated Meta Knight from the bridge. "We wish you success." He nodded to Clank, who pressed a few buttons.

In the hanger, the front wall opened. Thanks to Toph, where there was once sand, there was now a view of the clear blue sky.

The three shuttles lifted into the air, and behind them, four figures did likewise. And then, they were off.

* * *

Katara continued to traverse City 17, staying by the canal and other sources of water as much as possible. Green Lantern hovered above her, scanning the area. Nix, whose relatively short attention span was greatly amused by this city full of combustible, contemptible cops, would briefly explode into being beside Katara, but then disappear as quickly as she had came.

"We'd want to find Scapegrace soon," murmured Green Lantern, listening to the cacophony of sirens in the distance. "This isn't the friendliest place I've been. And I've been to a lot of unfriendly places."

"I'm confident we'll find him soon enough," said Katara. "Sometimes all you can do is hope."

GL smiled to himself. "When I get home, I'll send in an application for a Blue Ring on your behalf."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

"Hey!" yelled Nix, teleporting behind the two. "I think I found him!"

"You sure?" asked GL.

Nix scoffed disdainfully. "Saw a guy in a fancy suit. You think anyone else around here has the money for that?"

"Sounds like it then," nodded Katara.

"Lead on, Nix," said GL.

Nix guided them through a series of streets which might have been pleasant two decades ago. They eventually came to a courtyard. The man standing by the pillar in the centre was indeed wearing a suit, as Nix reported. He looked nervous, like a small rabbit. When he saw the three advance on him, he whirled around, a gleeful smirk on his face.

"Ah-_ha_!" he all but screamed. "There you are! Ready to face your doom?!"

Green Lantern, Katara and Nix stared blankly at him. Then, as one, they burst out laughing.

Scapegrace's face clouded. "W-what?"

"Look at you, man!" guffawed Nix. "You're just a pansy in a tie! What can you do?"

"What can I do? _What can I do_?!" Scapegrace was doing his best to regain composure. He began to stride towards them threateningly. "I am the Killer Supreme! I can unleash upon you a fate so horrible, you willUH!" He tripped over his own shoelace and landed, face first, on to the cobblestones. The impact shook his teeth and made him begin to cry.

"Oh, I feel bad laughing at him," giggled Katara.

"Don't be!" said Green Lantern. "I could use some comic relief."

"_Shut up_!" yelled Scapegrace, tears streaming down his face. "I am the Killer Supreme!"

"Sure you are, pal. Sure you are."

"That's it," Scapegrace growled to himself. "Now I'm **angry**."

Green Lantern, Katara and Nix nodded to themselves. It was going to be a quick fight.

* * *

The three shuttles and four heroes made good progress through the desert. Dr Horrible had pointed them in the right direction, and occasionally modified Fox's course, the others following suit. After a time, he announced that they were definitely on the right track, and would soon arrive.

"I cannot wait to do battle with these scoundrels!" cried Thor enthusiastically.

"Relax," chided Skulduggery. "This is a stealth job, remember?"

War Machine chuckled. "Try telling that to Tony. He's just as eager for a fight. Isn't that right?"

Iron Man said nothing.

"Tony?" asked War Machine, concern obvious in his tone.

Iron Man didn't respond, or if he did, Rhodes didn't hear him. Although he was maintaining his speed and altitude, he appeared to be losing control of his armour. The frame shook as though Tony was pushing at from the inside. The blue eyes of the suit dimmed to grey, and then abruptly turned back on - but instead of their usual hue, they were a soulless gold which clashed with the slightly different shade of gold already on the armour. The eyes centred on the centre shuttle, and blasted forward. It arced up towards the bottom of the fuselage, shrieking one word.

"_**COOPER!**_"

Before anyone could react, the shuttle was replaced with an explosion, and then the explosion was replaced with five bodies and some wreckage floating in mid-air, gravity having not yet caught up with them. The Iron Man suit twitched, the eyes once again off, before the gold fired up once more. It grabbed Sly roughly and shot off.

"By Odin! Stark has lost reason!" exclaimed Thor. He realigned Mjolnir and shot after him.

"That's not Tony," said War Machine gravely, close behind.

"Uh, guys, are we going to catch the falling people?" said Skulduggery. "No? Just me? Fine."

The skeleton swooped down and grabbed Horrible by the scruff of the neck in one hand and Fox by the coat-tails in the other. He tried to slow Jennifer's descent by moving the air, but he found it immensely difficult with his arms full. He swore loudly.

Fox appeared to be the only person still conscious after the crash. Seeing the de-powered hero fall towards earth, he grabbed his reflector and threw it at her. The device activated upon hitting her, startling her awake. By the time she hit the ground she was once again She-Hulk, and soon she was following Iron Man.

"Sharp thinking," complimented Skulduggery, who was focusing on landing the pilot and Scientist slowly. "But I don't think you're getting that thing back."

"Somehow…" said Fox, touching his temple and finding blood, "I think that might not… be my biggest problem."

##

One moment, Revan had been sitting calmly in his shuttle, formulating possible strategies; the next, the silence was ripped in half by an explosion which rocked their vessel. Carth swore and corrected their flight path.

"What was that?" said Snake, head shooting up.

"One of the other shuttles exploded!" said Jak.

"What?!" yelled Revan. He looked out the window just in time to see Iron Man shoot away, followed by his colleagues, as Skulduggery scooped up the passengers.

"What should we do?" asked Carth, gripping the controls tightly.

Revan didn't answer. Instead he activated his radio and barked "Come in, Halberd. This is Revan. We have a situation."

"This is Halberd. What's the problem?" came Rocket Raccoon's voice.

"Stark's gone AWOL. He's destroyed one of the shuttles. Casualties to be confirmed."

"Bloody hell! Where's Stark now?"

"Fleeing. Two of our flyers are in pursuit," said Revan, coldly eyeing the superheroes leave.

Another voice patched into the line. "Come in, Halberd. This is Agent Washington. Be advised, we -"

"Yeah, we know," snapped RR. "Save your breath."

"Please advise our course of action," said Snake into his codec.

There was a pause, presumably as those in the boardroom discussed it. Revan could imagine all too clearly L speaking at his usual slow pace despite the severity of the situation. Eventually, RR came back on the line and said "Don't pursue Stark. Let the supers fight amongst themselves. Trust me, it happens once every month. Your priority is still the Death Thing. _Yes_, Death _Note_. Whatever."

"Roger, but there's a problem," replied Revan. "Horrible was on the shuttle that exploded."

"It'll be a lot harder to infiltrate the castle without our informant," noted Snake.

"Any word on Horrible surviving?" asked RR.

Before Revan could respond to the negative, Wash cut in again. "Raiden informs me that he can see Detective Pleasant on the ground with two figures. Try asking him."

##

Skulduggery carefully lay his two charges on the sand. His phone buzzed and he flicked it open.

"Yes." It wasn't a question, merely an acknowledgement.

"Report in, Pleasant. What's Horrible's status?"

"Unconscious. He'll survive." Skulduggery's tone was terse, something Rocket Raccoon didn't seem to pick up on.

"Well, slap him awake and get going! We need him to get into Maleficent's castle."

"If I move him, he could die. I need a medic down here now."

"Negative. McNinja's priority is the Death Note. Unless you want me to send the _lion_ walking out to you."

"Looks like we're just going to stay here then."

"Listen, _Detective_. You get Horrible up and going in the next five seconds, and that's an order."

"Guess that makes this an act of insubordination," said Skulduggery. He turned off his phone.

He looked down at Horrible. The Scientist was still out cold, and had a few lacerations over his body. For the most part, though, he was unharmed, and his breathing was steady.

Skulduggery turned his head to Fox. The same could not be said of him. In his line of work as a soldier, Skulduggery had come to recognize the signs of a fatal wound. It was clear to his seasoned eye that Fox had minutes, if that long.

The one thing which had vexed him the most with his conversation with Rocket Raccoon, moreso than the latter's insistence on getting Horrible to the castle, was his failure to ask about Fox's status as well. Maybe it was a simple mistake, or perhaps it was symptomatic of a managerial style Skulduggery didn't appreciate. Either way, the detective was unimpressed.

It was obvious that nothing could be done for Fox, and perhaps Skulduggery was needed in a fight elsewhere. But at the moment, there was one death he could potentially prevent, and he decided to do what was in his power to prevent it.

##

Wash listened to the report he was receiving on his radio. When it finished, he brought his hand to his face.

"Good news, then?" asked O'Neill, glancing over his shoulder.

"Pleasant says Horrible's injured and refuses to move him," recounted Washington. "So we're doing this without an insider."

"That could be a problem," said Raiden.

"Maybe not," replied Wash. "I've seen a lot of plans go wrong in my time. What was Horrible supposed to give us?"

"The hope was he'd show us an entrance," said McNinja.

"Well, I can think of an alternative way in. Let's get a little reckless." Washington leaned closer to O'Neill. "Say, Colonel. You've got a lot of flight hours, right?"

"I've been flying since 'Nam."

Wash smiled deviously under his helmet. "That must have added up to a lot of crashes."

* * *

By the time the Combine squads closed in on Scapegrace's position to provide him backup, the fight was long over. It had been completely, hopelessly one-sided.

"There you are!" yelled Scapegrace. His eyes were wide and his breath ragged from sheer excitement. "Look! I did it! I killed three whole people! _At once_!"

The Combine soldiers stared at him worriedly.

"Uh," Scapegrace said, regaining his composure. "I mean. Good, you're here. I need someone to... deal with the bodies. Of the people I killed. Because I'm beyond such things now. Yes. Get to it!"

The soldiers obediently approached what was left of the three heroes. Scapegrace was ecstatically happy, but couldn't help but wonder what he was supposed to do now. He pried Green Lantern's ring from his cold, dead hand, and began idly playing with it.

* * *

"Castle's in sight," announced Carth.

"Good," said Revan. "Snake, you join up with Raiden and McNinja upon landing. I don't know if you'll have to adjust your plans to account for Cooper's absence -"

"We didn't have a plan."

"Then adjusting will be easy. I don't care how you do it – just secure the Death Note. Now, we-"

Revan was interrupted by the sight of the other shuttle ramming itself at speed into the castle, tearing a hole in the stone wall. He swore loudly and fumbled for his radio. "_Now what_?!"

"Oh, nothing to worry about," chirped Wash. "Just making an entrance... literally. We're fine. O'Neill even thinks the shuttle could fly again."

Revan gave a throaty sigh, turning off his radio. "I'm _surrounded_ by _idiots_... Carth, land this shuttle like a real pilot, please."

They touched down at the base of the tower. All four exited the vehicle. Jak went to take point, but Revan stopped him. "You stay here."

"What?" said Jak.

"Carth's a good soldier, but we have to be prepared for anything," replied Revan. "I want this shuttle guarded well. Understand?"

Jak glared at him. "...Fine. Have _fun_ in there."

"Oh, I will."

Revan and Snake walked towards the castle, leaving Carth with a seething Jak. Raiden threw down a rope for them.

They ascended to find the others standing around the crashed shuttle.

"You sure you want to come with us?" McNinja was asking. "You look a little shook from the 'landing'."

Jack waved him away. "I'll be fine. Hey, what's the worst that can happen?" Dr McNinja's eye twitched, but he said nothing.

Revan shot Wash a meaningful look, but then took point. They explored the tower in a tight formation.

"Why's it so quiet?" asked Wash almost in a whisper.

"It seems like no-one is here," said Snake, gun raised high. "The question is, where are they?"

They eventually did find someone; Azula, lying motionless on the ground next to an open doorway. Dr McNinja crouched over her. "She's dead, Jim."

"By what means?" snapped Revan.

"Hard to say," murmured McNinja, checking her lack of a pulse. "Give me a moment."

"I thought you had a talent for this kind of thing," growled Revan.

"Oh, do go easy on him," said a voice. It was unfamiliar. As one, the six turned, weapons raised.

Maleficent was smirking at them. In one hand, she held her staff, and the Death Note floated ominously over the other. Both were wreathed in twisting green flames.

"After all," she smiled, "this is very much a new development on my part. Please, allow me to demonstrate."

She raised her staff and fired a burst of green flame at the group. They executed a series of twists, rolls and superhuman jumps to evade it. The only person without the sufficient acrobatics to avoid it was O'Neill. The blast struck him in the torso, and threw him backwards. By the time he hit the ground, he was dead.

"Well," said Dr McNinja from his position on the ceiling. "There's your answer."

##

Sly slammed into the ground, thrown roughly by Iron Man. He landed on his left arm at an awkward angle, and gasped in pain as he heard the bone crack. He rolled slightly upon impact, his cane bouncing away from him.

Iron Man landed after, standing stiffly and glowering down at Sly.

"Augh… what's wrong with you!?" yelled Sly, cradling his injured arm. "Just what are you…" Sly looked into the suit's golden eyes and trailed off.

"**Behold**," boomed the one in the suit. "**Ironwerk is **_**born**_**.**"

* * *

_**I'm going to be so annoyed if the world actually ends today. We've only just gotten to the good bit! Review your predictions!**_


	23. Finale Part 1: P is for Pain

_I stared up at the seething yellow eyes that had haunted my family for generations - only this time, they were coming from a different source: Iron Man's armour. The man who yesterday I had been watching socialise and flirt so nonchalantly. He didn't look quite as friendly with five types of gun pointed at my head._

_Although long past any real emotion, I could almost detect a victorious, gleeful tone just at the edge of Clockwerk's voice as he explained what had happened. He thanked me for our previous encounters, claiming that I had shown him the light as far as technology was concerned. He said that his robot body - while "perfect" - was only really a vessel for his mind when you got down to it. And it was that attitude which had led him down the path of upgrading himself to send his mind into other machines. Machines like the Iron Man suit._

_As Clockwerk gloated, I could just about make out Tony's muffled voice. From the sound of things, he was still in the armour, and thinking aloud his plans to get out or regain control. As for me, I wasn't much better. My arm filled with pain every time I moved it, and even if I could grab my cane in time, I doubted it would have been very effective against a vengeful AI using a highly advanced metal suit as a body._

_I could see people approaching in the sky, and prayed that they made it to me in time before Clockwerk finally ran out of wind and decided to finish me off. But as bad as my situation was, things were about to get a whole lot worse for everyone._

* * *

In the deep, dark room of the Halberd where a poker game was occasionally held, Sig smiled at his hand. Obviously, he did so internally. Sig had a good poker face. But four fours was lucky.

"I'm out," said Ghastly.

"Me too," muttered Angry Joe.

"Go fish," said Caboose.

"Dammit Caboose! I only told you about this game because you assured me you knew how to play!" snapped Sarge.

"Of course I do! Quick question though. How much is this worth?" asked Caboose, showing the other players a Joker card.

Sarge's palm clanged metallically against his helmet as he muttered about the average intelligence of Blue Team. Joe pinched the bridge of his nose, close to shouting.

Ghastly turned to Sig. "Can you believe this guy?"

Sig didn't respond. He was too busy regarding the golden, bloodied blade which protruded from his chest.

Loki peered over his shoulder. "What a pity," he remarked blithely. "You might have won with that hand."

* * *

In the tower, things were panicked.

Maleficent fired blast after blast at the heroes, who were just about managing to avoid her assault. She cackled joyfully, enjoying forcing them to dance around like puppets.

Wash crouched down and emptied a magazine of his rifle into Maleficent's back. She glowed green where the bullets hit her, and fell forward slightly, but was unharmed for the most part. She spun on her heel and fired a burst of flame directly at the Freelancer.

"Son of a bitc-!" swore Washington before the blast hit him. His armour did nothing to prevent his death. Revan noted this as calmly as he could.

"What's that protecting her?" asked Raiden, nimbly dodging another burst.

Dr McNinja threw a shruiken at Maleficent, and noted the exact manner it bounced off of her. "Magical shielding!" he declared matter-of-factly, flipping away from the sorceress.

"Magical shielding?" parroted Snake incredulously, lobbing a grenade at Maleficent. She saw it and redirected upwards. It exploded against the ceiling and shook the tower.

"You heard me!" said the doctor. "Hard to say if we can undo it quickly en**UGH**." McNinja gave up trying to explain things when a shot from the staff came far too close to him for comfort. He slid under it and ducked into shadow.

"You should stay down," Raiden said to Revan. "You're our commander. You should be observing."

"I am observing," retorted Revan. "I can multitask, you know."

A single tranquillizing dart bounced off of Maleficent's shield. She gave Snake a withering look. She then raised a hand and slammed a large portion of the wall he stood beside into him, with enough force to send him and the bricks across the tower and break through the wall on the opposite side.

##

Carth and Jak stood outside the tower, unaware of the battle raging within it. Jak was still annoyed at being left behind on what he felt was a pointless task. Carth was not especially happy either, since he had been relegated by Revan to stand in awkward silence with an angry young man who was heavily armed.

"So," said the pilot, desperate for some conversation, "how do you think they're doing?"

Before Jak could reply, a large shower of heavy stone bricks and an unconscious stealth operative exploded from the tower and slammed into himself and Carth, burying both. As Jak slipped out of consciousness, he became even more angry at his situation.

##

"What a pathetic attempt to stop me," murmured Maleficent, looking down at the dart.

"Ever hear of teamwork?" retorted a voice behind her. Maleficent turned to see Raiden bearing down her at an extreme speed. Maleficent saw his katana aiming for her heart, and she had a brief moment of panicked thoughtlessness. She needn't have worried. Her shields held under Raiden's assault, and the force he had applied to the sword caused it to twist out of his hands and spiral away.

Maleficent and Raiden stared at each other for a brief moment, and then Maleficent shot him with her staff, killing him.

She turned around to see Revan standing alone, arms folded. They held each other's gaze for a few moments.

"Are you going to shoot me with your little notebook spell?" said Revan. His tone was mocking, but he knew fully that he was about to die.

"No need," smiled Maleficent. Revan, taking this as some kind of insult, raised a finger accusingly and prepared to retort. Before he could form any words, the wall behind him, having been destabilized by Snake's violent exit, fell forward and smothered him. His arm pointed out of the wreckage for a few moments before it too was covered.

She calmly looked around herself, searching for other opponents. She couldn't see anyone alive; only bodies. She laughed merrily to herself, satisfied.

She breezed from the room happily, and headed to the room where Dr Doom had left the transporter running.

* * *

Sly blinked rapidly, and tried to shuffle backwards. His mind burned with questions. "...How?" was the first he vocalized. "How did you manage to -"

"**Upload myself into this machine?**" Clockwerk's deep voice dripped, as ever, with unshakable conceit. "**Well, Cooper, I could explain, but the question is, would you understand? I imagine you wouldn't.**"

"I'm hurt. I mean, you're not even going to try?" Sly's eye kept subtly darting to the figures in the sky. They were approaching, but were still painfully far away.

"**No**," said Clockwerk. "**I'm not. I've been waiting years to kill you. Slowly. And now I will.**"

"You're as eloquent as ever, you monster," said Sly. And with that, he threw himself upward and began to run.

He didn't get far before before a repulsor blast exploded against his back. Sly toppled forward and landed face-first in the sand.

"Ouch."

Ironwerk walked over to him slowly, awkwardly moving the suit's legs. "**That was foolish,**" he noted in his deadpan. "**How far, exactly, did you intend to run blindly into this vast desert, chased by an unstoppable, perfect being?**"

"Not sure," replied Sly, rolling over so that he was resting on his unharmed elbow, looking up at Ironwerk. "I tend to make plans one step at a time."

"**I've noticed. I've also noticed your plans are abysmal. And this time your turtle friend isn't going to save you. Now, which limb would you describe as your favourite?**"

"Maybe you've got a point," said Sly calmly. "Maybe Bentley isn't getting me out of this scrape. But there's no shame in relying on your friends. And this last month, I've made a _lot_ of new friends."

Ironwerk tilted his head to the side smugly. He raised his hand and pointed a wrist-mounted laser at Sly. Sly looked up at him, and then was suddenly looking up at the empty space where he had been. The only thing Sly's eye had processed between these two points in time was a blur of grey and red.

He turned and saw Thor and Ironwerk tumbling over each other. When they came a stop, Thor was on top, and grabbed Ironwerk's throat. He pushed the suit down, roaring triumphantly.

War Machine landed smoothly next to Sly. "Careful!" he called to Thor. "Tony's still inside that thing." Thor grunted in acknowledgement. War Machine offered his hand to Sly, who gratefully used it to stand.

"**You cannot stop me,**" boomed Clockwerk. "**You are all beneath me**."

Thor smiled condescendingly. "Of course, of course. That attitude only ever ends well. Knave."

"What's the situation?" Rhodes asked.

"Um," began Sly. "That's Clockwerk, my enemy. He took over the Iron Man suit and tried to kill me."

War Machine nodded. "Okay then."

"You're not confused?"

"I'll be confused later," said War Machine. "Priority now is to tear that thing into little pieces. Carefully, of course. We're going to get you out, Tony!" he called.

Tony's response was almost audible.

"Rhodes," said Thor, "what say you th-" At that moment, Ironwerk brought a knee up and blasted Thor with his foot. Thor flew backwards and knocked into War Machine, sending both flying.

Ironwerk staggered to his feet, snarled at Sly, and blasted towards him. Sly successfully dodged his charge. Ironwerk executed a tight 180 turn, and levelled both hands and his shoulder-missiles at the thief. Three different targeting systems locked on to Sly, making a second escape impossible.

It was quite fortuitous, then, that at that moment a green fist slammed into the side of Ironwerk's head. He rolled mid-air and landed in the sand. His golden eyes flickered off.

She-Hulk flicked her hand a few times to lessen the pain in it. Thanks to Fox, her fall had not been fatal, but it was still painful. Her immediate rush towards the battle hadn't helped things either. Now she was tired, woozy, and slightly dizzy, but still determined to beat the one responsible into pulp.

She nodded to Sly. "You alright?"

He moved his broken arm slightly. "Been better. You?"

She spat some blood as Thor and War Machine approached. "_Fan_tastic."

Iron Man was slowly standing. The eyes eventually turned gold again, and he floated to his feet. He turned around to see She-Hulk, Thor and War Machine glowering at him. Sly stood behind War Machine and grinned awkwardly.

"**So**," drawled Clockwerk. "**You mean to oppose me. Unwise. I have no reason to fight you. Just surrender Cooper.**"

"I don't think you fully understand the concept of a superhero," said She-Hulk.

"We will never condemn an innocent to thine twisted hands, fiend!" growled Thor.

"Give me back my friend," muttered War Machine.

Ironwerk raised his arms. "**So be it. You shall all perish**."

* * *

Angry Joe ran down the corridor, shooting wildly the way he came.

"I'm not retreating, you surrendered!" he bellowed.

A hand grabbed him from behind and he whirled around, guns raised. He relaxed when he saw it was Linkara.

"Calm down, Joe! What's going on?"

"Fucking Loki is what's going on!" was the reply. "He teleported in and started stabbing everyone!"

"He did!?"

"Yeah! We tried fighting him off, but it was pretty useless. Sarge should've damn near blew his shoulder off, but he looked like he didn't feel it!"

Linkara nodded tersely. "His healing factor." He looked at the floor, his head shaking as he formulating a plan. Suddenly he clicked his fingers. "Of course!"

"What?"

"Insano's Anti-Magic Field Generator!" yelled Linkara. "It should cancel Loki's regeneration. Maybe."

"Maybe?!" demanded Joe.

"Well, have you a better idea?"

"Guess not."

"Right. So, let's go find it."

"Indeed, let's." A deep voice cut through the corridor. Joe and Linkara turned to see Dr Doom striding towards them. "Show me the location of this device," he commanded. "It would be most useful to **Doom**."

Linkara paled and reached for his flintlock. Joe wasted no time and immediately opened fire with both guns.

Doom laughed mockingly as his shields activated. "Fool! More expensive bullets than yours have tried, and failed, to overcome **Doom's** defences!" Doom blasted Joe with his palms, sending him flying down the hallway.

Doom turned to Linkara just in time to receive a heavy blast from the latter's magic gun. The shields crackled under the powerful assault.

"Interesting weapon," noted Doom. "But against **Doom**, all weapons are insufficient."

The supervillain flew towards Linkara and punched him in the stomach. The reviewer cried out and fell to the ground. The battery for Insano's device fell from his pocket and clattered towards Doom.

Doom picked it up and held it between thumb and forefinger, reading its inscription. "The device's power source. **Doom** shall claim this," he declared. "It would be most useful to employ this machine against Maleficent. Her time is at an end, and **Doom** serves no-one."

Dr Doom lifted Linkara by the throat, until Linkara's feet dangled over the ground. "When I return, you will lead me to this device," he growled. "Then, perhaps, **Doom** will be merciful and spare you." Doom dropped Linkara, kicked him for good measure, and then continued to make his way through the ship.

"So... that's a no to getting your autograph, then," Linkara weakly called after him.

* * *

"I'm telling you, we shoulda set up traps!" Rocket Raccoon yelled, as he aimed both laser pistols at the boardroom's door. "Ya bloody idiots didn't listen! Your captain was the only one with the right idea!"

"Please calm down," said L. "I'm sure everything is fine."

The door was violently kicked off its hinges, flying against Rocket Raccoon and in turn slamming him into the far wall. He sank to the floor.

L shrugged. "I've been wrong before."

"I told you that door wasn't solid," added Phoenix meekly.

M Bison swaggered into the room, his hands on his hips. "Greetings, gentlemen!"

"Hello," replied Layton tersely.

"I," said Bison with a flourish of one hand, "am M Bison. Your death, given rather strapping physical form."

"And I suppose that with that confidence, we can't dissuade you? Make you reconsider what you're about to do?" asked Bentley.

"Not a chance," said L gravely, unwrapping a new chocolate bar. "He's a war-like man, as clearly evidenced by his clothing. But you'll notice that his uniform isn't that of any national military – instead, it's based on his own image. He's a narcissist, working for himself only. As such, I would wager that this man is completely immune to any argument, threat, or plea we could produce."

Bison laughed heartily. "Without sounding too immodest, that seems accurate to me!"

"Hmm," said L. He sprang out of his chair and kicked M Bison in the face. The warlord staggered momentarily, but then laughed it off. L went to kick him again. Bison grabbed his ankle, pulling him upwards. He grabbed L's head with his other hand and twisted his wrist violently. L's dark eyes widened as his neck snapped. Bison released the scrawny detective and let his body fall to the floor.

M Bison was about to make a witty comment when a huge burst of fire slammed into him.

Iroh had also left his chair. His face was twisted into an expression of rage. With one hand, he kept burning Bison. He raised the other and blew a hole in the boardroom's wall with another explosion of flame.

"**Go!**" he roared at the three remaining people in the room. "I'll hold him off!"

"But... he'll kill you!" protested Bentley.

"My chances are better than yours," snapped Iroh. "Now go before I start burning you as well!"

M Bison's silhouette was visible within the wreathing flames, and it was moving slowly towards Iroh.

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Phoenix grabbed Bentley's wheelchair's handles and pulled him back. "Listen to the general. If we stay here, we'll all die!"

Phoenix and Bentley disappeared into the hole. At this point, the boardroom was on fire. Layton gravely tipped his hat to Iroh before following behind Phoenix.

Iroh began to sweat under the effort of Firebending so intensely with his still sore arm. M Bison's head appeared from the fire, charred and enraged.

"I'm going to kill you slowly, you old fool," he spat.

Iroh retracted both his flames and arms, and drew in a deep breath.

"If you think you can, you're welcome to try."


	24. FP2: Things Start Exploding

Revan's eyes shot open under his mask. He tried to jump to his feet, but found that a large chunk of debris was lying on his torso. He gritted his teeth and lifted the rubble with the Force, and threw it to the side. Then, he slowly and painfully got to his feet and examined the area around him.

The floor of the castle he was on was now exposed to the elements: the roof, so heavily damaged by O'Neill's unorthodox landing, had been finished off by the sudden battle with Maleficent. The wind now whistled merrily between the cracks in the jagged walls, and the darkening violet sky gave the carnage a lovely romantic atmosphere.

Revan turned his head downwards and examined what was left of his forces. From what he could see, there were no survivors. The bodies of O'Neill, Raiden and Wash lay where they had fallen, strewn like broken puppets on the ground. Neither Snake's nor McNinja's body were not in sight, but Revan didn't feel like searching for them. While someone could assume that they may have possibly survived the encounter, Revan knew he wasn't in a position to rely on possibilities.

Revan began to heal himself using the Force, breathing deeply as he felt his wounds slowly fade. While doing this, he considered his situation. Maleficent had moved on, that much he could gather. Otherwise, she would have stayed, to search for Revan and ensure to end his life with her newfound powers. The Jedi grimaced. The abilities she had displayed were formidable to say the least. Being no expert on what the others primitively referred to as "magic", he couldn't begin to theorize what she had done to the Death Note, but he assumed it was something powerful. The only thing which concerned Revan was that this power had killed three, probably five, highly trained individuals in a matter of seconds. And, continuing his pessimistic train of thought, there was one place she could be now - the Halberd, cutting a swathe of bodies.

Confident he was now in decent shape again, Revan strode towards the edge of the castle. He had to get back as soon as he could. There was one person on the Halberd who Revan thought might stand a chance against Maleficent, but first he'd need a bit of Revan's unique… persuasion.

Revan peered down the wall of the castle, and was relieved to see that the outwardly collapsing wall hadn't harmed the shuttle Carth had flown. Revan grabbed the rope, mercifully still attached to a brick, and slid down quickly to the ground.

"Carth!" he yelled, hopeful the pilot was still around. Revan didn't particularly want to try flying himself back.

"Carth?" he repeated. The rubble around him remained silent.

Suddenly out of the rubble exploded a hulking grey form which roared at Revan. The beast went to leap at the Jedi when its arms suddenly stuck to its sides and it froze where it was.

"I don't have time for this," snarled Revan, holding out his arm. "So get some sense or I'll use the Force to pop your big muscles like grapes. From the _inside_."

The grey creature slowly shrank back down into Jak, his hair returning to its blonde colour and his eyes going from solid black to a normal blue. As he transformed Revan couldn't fail to notice Carth's unmoving body in the rubble just behind where Jak was. Revan didn't mourn; he'd get to that later if he had time. Revan released Jak and he blinked confusedly.

"What happened?" asked Jak. His vision cleared as inspected the ruin around him. "I'm… guessing things didn't go to plan."

"You could say that," growled Revan. He pointed to the shuttle. "Can you fly that thing?"

"Sure, I guess," said Jak, picking up his MorphGun.

"Good. It's time for Plan A."

* * *

Scar crept quietly through the loud corridors of the Halberd, sneaking past heroes running to and fro to locate intruders. He watched them go, all gleaming weapons and obvious strength, and decided on a plan of attack which he hoped wouldn't result in him being beaten against a wall.

He navigated through the ship until he had reached the room he surmised they used to treat the sick.

"Hello?" he crooned from the hall. "Dying? Comatose? Mentally incapacitated? I'll take anyone who doesn't have the strength to push me away from their throat..."

He entered the room and blinked in surprise. Staring at him perplexedly was Vitani. He returned the expression, and there was silence for a few moments.

"Well," he said after a time. "Hello."

"Hello to you to you, Father," replied Vitani. "I can honestly say I didn't expect to run into you here."

"Because your new friends tried to kill me? Almost successfully?" sniffed Scar distastefully.

"Well, that. And also because, well, you're looking pretty spry for someone who _was _successfully torn into shreds by hyenas."

Scar's eyes glazed a little. "And _here_ comes that repressed memory flooding back to me. Thank you ever so much."

"You're welcome..." Vitani coughed. "So, uh, why are you here?"

"We're invading you. Be prepared to face your destruction, tremble before us, etcetera etcetera."

"Well, yes, I kind of knew that part." Vitani motioned to the med bay in general. "I mean, why are you _here_?"

Scar sighed and seated himself on the floor. "Well, apparently we're supposed to be killing you now and generally wreaking havoc. But I don't really have the spirit for it at the moment."

"Why not? No offence, Father, but you're a pretty heartless monster."

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, it's by no means a moral scruple," smiled Scar. "I'd gladly be killing you all had I the ability. But I feel myself lacking in comparison to my colleagues."

"Why's that?"

"Well, let's take a headcount." Scar raised a paw and unsheathed a claw as he counted each off his allies. "There's Doom, the metal man. Bison, the fighter who's seemingly 95% muscle mass. Tai Lung, the leopard who performs incredible feats of physical prowess, half the time without even noticing. And my good friend Loki, the immortal god. Compared to that, I'm little outclassed," sighed Scar. "So, I came here to kill your wounded."

"Thanks for that," murmured Vitani. "But as you can see, we have no wounded."

"Yet."

"Good point..."

"So," said Scar conversationally, with a relaxed yawn. "How have things been going for you?"

"Well, now that you mention it..."

* * *

Maleficent materialized in the Halberd, slightly disorientated from the trip. The sickly green flames surrounding the Death Note illuminated the room she was in. She examined it – it was apparently empty. She started when she turned around and saw a figure behind her. It remained immobile. Maleficent examined it, and smiled almost nostalgically. It was a statue of a knight, something far more closer to home than Scientific portals or two-fisted marital artists. As she examined it, however, it became obvious to her that it was no ordinary statue – it was in fact a knight trapped in the form of stone.

"Ah, petrification," she sighed aloud, laying a hand on his cheek. "An unenviable position. Much like my poor Diablo. You have my pity, Sir Knight."

She pulled away her hand and pricked her finger accidentally on his Sword of Peace. She scowled, but her smile soon returned. "After I murder everyone here, I will return and claim you," she informed him. "I would enjoy having you as a decoration." She turned and strode out of the room. "Don't go anywhere!" she chuckled.

Hype, for his part, didn't react.

* * *

"What's going on!?" demanded Ratchet into his radio, to no response. He stared out the window, which now afforded the room a lovely view of one of the Halberd's large purple wings. He didn't feel especially comforted.

"Shit's going down!" exclaimed Zeke. "What should we do?"

"I know what I should do," announced Cole. "Unhook me from this damn cage and let me out there to kick some ass!"

"Oh sure," scoffed Zeke, bending down to open the device. "When you like it, it's a marvel. When you don't like it, it's a cage."

"Pardon me, fellas," said the Engineer weakly from the door, "but I don't think y'all need to go far to find yourselves a fight."

Before Ratchet could even form a question, the Engineer was flying across the room, slamming into the machinery lining the far wall. A smoking mark was on his clothes where a high-energy blast had struck him.

Dr Doom entered the Engine Room with a flourish of his cape. He quickly scanned everyone in the room. When he saw Cole, his eyes hardened. "Electric Man! **Doom **has at last returned to claim his glorious vengeance!"

"Oh no," said Cole. "Not this crazy bastard again."

Zeke and Ratchet produced their respective firearms as quickly as possible. The Engineer pulled himself upwards and likewise drew a small pistol.

Doom scoffed. "Foolish. The first man to bow to **Doom,** I will consider sparing. Otherwise, you are merely damning yourself to -"

Ratchet shot the doctor with his oversized blaster. Doom wobbled slightly, but his shields held. "You talk too much," said Ratchet shortly.

Doom roared and leapt into action, ignoring the bullets being fired at him from all sides. He flew across the room and punched Zeke in the stomach with a metal fist, winding him. Zeke sank to the floor, but gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on Doom. He noticed the slight blue glow around Doom where Ratchet and the Engineer's weapons struck him.

Doom turned on his heel and shot at the Engineer a second time. He managed to dodge Doom's first strike, but the second caught him on the arm he held his pistol in. The Engineer fell, landing next to the engine room's heavy door.

Doom then flew to Ratchet, grabbing the Lombax and flinging Ratchet across the room. Ratchet impacted against the window and continued through it, the glass shattering dramatically and leaving a small gap.

"All fall before **Doom**!" shouted the dictator. "And now to kill you slowly, MacGrath."

Cole strained against the restraints of the engine, but the grip was too awkward to break by physical strength. As Doom approached him slowly, Cole let out some electricity in frustration. A gauge on the far wall responded, showing an increase in power to the room.

Cole made a realization and smirked. He strained himself and let loose a massive surge of power. The multitude of mechanical lights in the engine room flickered on erratically, all dancing to the rhythm Cole was emitting.

"A pitiful display," remarked Doom. "Your powers are useless now. Now prepare to die by **Doom's** hand!"

Behind Doom, Zeke pulled himself upright. He lunged forward and, having determined the location of Doom's portable shield device, wrenched it out of Doom's armor. He flung it out of the window after Ratchet, eliciting a roar of anger from Doom.

"Good going!" yelled Cole, straining with concentration. "Now to finish this son of a _**bitch**_ off!"

Doom whirled around, intending to fly from the room before it exploded. He turned just in time to see the Engineer slam the heavy steel door shut. It gave a deep clicking sound, indicating it was tightly closed. Engineer saw Doom looking at him and smiled mockingly. "Nope," he coughed.

Doom glanced at the broken window through, but the hole in the glass was too small for him to quickly traverse, and the wall around it was too thick to quickly destroy.

Enraged, he drew his firearm, intending on killing Cole as quickly as possible. Zeke leapt up from behind him, wrestling with him and thwarting his aim. Zeke's battling was ineffectual, but it gave Cole the time he needed.

"Zeke..." said Cole quietly. He didn't say more. Zeke knew what he was thinking.

"Do it, brother!" called Zeke urgently. His tone became strangled, partly from emotion and partly because Dr Doom had begun choking him with a metal fist. "Half as long..."

"**Twice as bright**!" roared Cole in response, doubling the volume of electricity he was forcing, then tripling it. He glowed and intense blue as the lightning ripped through his body and into the machine. Around the engine room, sparks burst and lights blew. Mechanical components tore themselves asunder as the room began to suffer a series of minor explosions.

Dr Doom succeeded in throwing off Zeke, but it was too late. The room was doomed to detonate. In one final act of rage, Doom raised his arms, his hands balled into furious fists, and bellowed "_**MACGRAAAAAAAAAAAAAATH!**_" in voice so loud it seemed to be the cause of the frenzied destruction around him.

And then the engine room exploded.

* * *

"What was that?" Meta Knight roared as his precious ship rocked with an explosion. The lights of the equipment on the bridge dimmed to nothing.

"It... appears that the engine room has been destroyed," reported Clank shakily.

Meta Knight rubbed his mask with one hand, as though easing a headache. "We have yet to even take off..." he muttered angrily. "HK-47!" he ordered. "What's our situation?"

"Report: Before our instruments lost power, they registered five intruders in various points of the ship, followed by a sixth," the droid reported. "One was very close by indeed."

"Then secure the bridge!" commanded the captain. HK-47 walked to the main door, locked it, and then aimed his blaster at it.

"Clank!" barked Meta Knight. The small robot jumped, having been lost in thought. "There should be emergency beacons still active," said Meta Knight. "Activate them. They should have enough range to inform our far away allies of our situation."

Clank nodded and began to search for the devices.

"Knock knock," came a voice through the Bridge's door.

"Query: Who's there?" queried HK-47.

"The fellow who just left your tactical headquarters a mass of burning flames, and kicked your elderly general right through the walls of the ship."

"Impressive," said HK-47. "Uh, I mean, despicable!"

"It is quite a claim," said Meta Knight. "I fear I cannot stop this intruder by brute force. HK-47, it is time to utilize our previous work."

"Reply: But of course!" replied HK-47. "I shall prepare it post-haste." He ran to a computer console and began working at it.

"What's this?" asked Clank

Meta Knight went to explain, but at that juncture the metal door of the bridge came unfixed. M Bison strode through, wrenching a chunk out of the wall and flinging it at HK-47. It spun through the air and cleanly cleaved HK-47's head from his shoulders. The droid fell slowly to the side.

"How rude," sniffed HK-47's head from the floor.

Meta Knight drew his sword and facing M Bison, who laughed at his height.

"Clank," rumbled the captain. "You have served me excellently for your short tenure as a Meta Knight."

"My thanks," said the robot gratefully.

"Bear in mind that that is my reason for doing this." Meta Knight whirled violently around, struck Clank with the flat of his sword, and knocked him through the window to the deck below.

Bison laughed. "Finally, someone who will fight me man-to-man!"

Meta Knight shook his head. Bison tilted his. "Why?" he asked. "What did yo-"

And then the bridge exploded.


	25. FP3: Honour is a Fool's Prize

Out in the desert, things were still going badly. Ironwerk was clumsy in his new body, but he was certainly strong, and it took everything in the heroes' power to keep him and his deadly weaponry away from Sly.

"I'm picking up a distress call from the Halberd," reported War Machine, as he wrestled with Ironwerk.

"That's not good," murmured Sly, circling the two and prepared to dodge.

"Wait," grunted Rhodes, and Sly waited for good news. "It cut off suddenly."

"That's worse," replied Sly gravely.

Ironwerk threw Rhodes off and fired a blast at Sly, which was intercepted by Thor. The Norse god took the blow as though it was nothing, and then he threw Mjolnir at Ironwerk, knocking it backwards.

"You think we should head back?" asked Sly, helping War Machine stand using his good arm. She-Hulk charged at Ironwerk, grabbing him from behind, but it managed to knock her into Thor.

"This first," growled Rhodes. He suddenly remembered something. "Someone hit it on the head!" he roared.

Thor nodded and shot Mjolnir at Ironwerk, catching it on the crown of its helmet. It staggered back, snarled, and abruptly went silent as the golden eyes deactivated.

There was deathly quiet for a few moments. Then, one of Iron Man's hands began to move. The hand reached to his chin, and managed to grasp the bottom of the face-plate. Then, with evident difficulty, it tightened, pulling on the thinner metal. It slowly wrenched the plate upwards along its hinges. The superheroes (and thief) watched in awestruck silence as the golden alloy gave way to a chin, a beard, a worried smirk.

"Can you hear me _now_?" asked Tony.

"Tony!" exclaimed War Machine.

"One and only. I've love to talk at length, but time is short. Clockwerk thinks he's got the glitches ironed out, but since I'm talking to you, we know that's not the case. But we can't rely on this. The longer he's offline, the more likely he'll spring to life again at any second."

"So, what do we do?" pressed She-Hulk.

Tony frowned. "I can't do much from inside my own suit."

"Well, we're not hurting you," said War Machine forcefully.

"Understandable attitude," grinned Tony. "Okay. Plan. Thor! Your lightning powers up the Arc Reactor."

"What would you have me do?"

"Blast me. As soon as Big Bird wakes up, hit me with enough juice to overload the reactor. With luck, the suit's circuits will shut down, Clockwerk will turn off, and I won't get too much molten metal in my eye sockets."

Thor nodded and prepared Mjolnir. War Machine asked "Are you sure this is safe? What if your Arc Reactor cuts out?"

"Oh yeah. Kinda forgot about that. Listen -" began Tony. The eyes of the suit flickered back on, and the faceplate slammed back down, cutting him off. Clockwerk screeched at Sly and flew forward.

"Time to go!" yelled Sly. War Machine grabbed him and took off, flying in a tight circle, Ironwerk close behind him. Thor fired a few bolts of lightning, to no effect.

"Gah! I cannot strike him!" he complained.

She-Hulk gritted her teeth, and when Ironwerk flew by her, she grabbed its ankle, causing it to lose balance and slam into the sand. She pull it upwards, locking it in a wrestling hold, and screamed to Thor "Shoot!"

Another warrior would have hesitated. Another warrior would have allowed Ironwerk the precious seconds it needed to escape. But Thor was of Asgard, where such acts of valour were to be respected without question. So with nothing more than a battle cry, Thor loosed a stream of singeing lightning into both Ironwerk and She-Hulk.

Tony watched the suit's power level soar up to 475% and beyond, until overshooting the limit and, with a shower of sparks, breaking. She-Hulk gave a shout of agony and let go of Ironwerk, but it was too late. The suit's eyes were grey, and the armour lay still. Clockwerk was quite literally powerless.

War Machine landed, and Sly hopped off of him. "Tony! Walters! Are you okay?" asked War Machine. Thor strode over and tore the face-plate off, revealing Tony was unharmed.

"Good job, everyone," he said. "Let's just not come in tomorrow. Let's... take a day. Ow."

"Is Clockwerk down for good?" asked Sly suspiciously.

"Hard to say. If I repair the suit, he'll probably still be in here. But the suit won't recover by itself, so we're safe for now."

Thor checked She-Hulk. "She is injured, and unconscious, but should be fine."

"Super," said Tony. "You guys should go on ahead. I'll stay here and have deep, meaningful discussions with She-Hulk."

"You sure?" asked War Machine.

Tony nodded. Or at least, he moved his head upwards as much as he could with his inactive armour. "Positive. Go. Pry me out later, I'll be fine."

War Machine smiled under his helmet. "The sacrifice play." He gave Tony a quick salute, and then turned to Sly. "You heard him. Back to the Halberd."

* * *

Clank landed heavily on the deck of the Halberd. He looked up just in time to see a fireball erupt out of the windows he had just been thrown through. A metallic shard, wreathed in flame, shot out and embedded itself next to him. Clank examined it momentarily and determined it was a piece of Meta Knight's mask. He feared the captain had not survived the blast.

This made it all the more disheartening when out of the smoke and flames billowing out of the windows came an unmistakeable muscular figure. Clank just about managed to make out the figure's sadistic grin before it leaped down to the deck, splintering the wood where it landed.

"Well now," chuckled M Bison. "Seems like your puffball friend misjudged the power of his explosives. A rookie mistake really." Bison's eye took on a nostalgic glint. "Oh, I could tell you tales of errors I made with bombs back when I was starting out. They're quite funny, with hindsight. But instead of telling you them, I think I'll just crush your metal skull like a walnut. I'm on a schedule you see."

Rolling his shoulders and patting out the few small fires which had started on his scorched uniform, Bison began to advance on Clank.

"I don't suppose I can make you reconsider this?" asked Clank hopefully, backing away a few steps.

"Let me put it this way," said Bison, not bothering to immediately catch the robot and instead content to stalk him slowly. "Your entire nerd room failed to talk me down. In battle, I only listen to force."

Clank stopped backing away and smiled. "In that case, I suppose I'm fortunate."

Bison cocked his head, smirking patronizingly. "Oh? And why is that?"

At that moment, something exploded against the back of Bison's head, disorienting him. Several more projectiles erupted against him: high calibre energy bullets. Bison twisted his head to see Ratchet grind down the length of one of the Halberd's wings, blasting at him with impressive accuracy.

While Bison stumbled to the ground, temporarily over-powered, Ratchet leaped off the wing and rolled over to Clank.

"What did I tell you?" he said, smiling despite himself. "When things started exploding-"

"We'd meet up," finished Clank, returning the smile.

"How precious," sneered Bison, clambering to his feet. "So - _Ratchet_, isn't it? - it appears Fate has deigned we shall once again face each other in combat."

"I hope for your sake you've been playing nice with my friend here," replied Ratchet, "because him and me work best as a team."

Bison's brow twitched. "You mean to say that not only are you going to battle me with weapons, but you intend to gang up on me as well? Have you no sense of honour at all?"

"Listen buddy, you can do something _honourably_," retorted Ratchet, as Clank affixed himself to his back, "or you can do something effectively. And nothing's more effective than a bit of teamwork."

M Bison rolled his eyes. "Spare me. Your twisted sense of how a gentleman battles appals me. But no matter - I am, after all, M Bison. While I would prefer to destroy you in honourable, man-to-man combat, I am perfectly capable of defeating you in any physical contest."

"Ratchet, his confidence is not misplaced," warned Clank from his usual position. "This man just shrugged off a sizeable explosion with no apparent ill effect."

Ratchet scoffed. "Whatever. Five minutes against the two of us and he'll be bawling like a baby."

Bison's grin slowly returned. "So, the rematch is on then, eh? Very well! Prepare yourselves for the greatest battle you have ever been involved in. I will show no mercy as I pummel you into dust. I will leave no iota of your feeble body spared in what will be the most crushing defeat you have ever experienced. I will hit you so hard your unborn children will have bruises - and they will be unborn, because you are not going to survive this duel. For you see, that is what happens when you challenge a god - that, is what happens when you challenge _M Bi_-"

It was at this juncture that a shuttle tore out of the sky and slammed into M Bison, promptly exploding. The metallic wreckage sat there, immobile, with sparks lightly sprinkling out of some extremities. Ratchet and Clank stood there in silence, unsure of what to do with themselves.

In a matter of seconds, a blue blur also fell from the sky and landed in a roll. Despite this, the landing was evidently painful, as the blur gave a masculine grunt of pain as it changed into a heap.

"Uh," said Ratchet, as it seemed the most appropriate thing to say at the time.

The heap which was once a blur looked up at the Lombax. "Oh, hello Ratchet," it said in a gravelly voice.

"Jak?" asked Ratchet incredulously. He offered his hand and helped Jak stand up. "Did… you do that?"

Jak merely grinned devilishly.

_**Fifteen seconds earlier**_

Revan had caught Jak up on Maleficent's deadly new powers. He was about to ask Jak if he had any idea where the second shuttle had gone, but the impromptu pilot spoke first.

"We should be coming up to the Halberd now," Jak announced.

Revan leaned over and looked at the wrecked airship. "Dammit. Looks like we're late to the party. We have to land immediately."

Something on the deck caught Jak's eye. "Say, you Jedi can jump really far, right?"

"Right," answered Revan defensively, not sure where Jak was going.

"I intend to land this thing immediately," explained Jak. "_Very _immediately. How do you like the sound of getting to the Bridge as soon as possible?"

Revan looked out of the shuttle and down the several stories to ground level.

"I'm listening," he said.

_**And so**_

Jak looked up and saw the black figure of Revan stand just inside the bridge, having made the jump out of the rapidly descending shuttle into the broken windows. Revan gave a brief wave to Jak and then turned on his heel, entering the smoke-filled wreckage.

"Thanks for taking care of Bison," said Ratchet, snapping Jak's attention back to the deck. "To be honest, I didn't really feel like going up against him again."

"Don't worry about it," answered Jak.

"Please Jak," piped up Clank, "you shouldn't be so modest."

"When I said 'don't worry about it'," snapped Jak, "I meant that you should forget about Bison, because we have much bigger fish to fry right now!"

"Oh," said Ratchet dejectedly. "And what are those?"

Before Jak could answer, a metallic groan cut him off.

"I'm afraid for all your talk of more important meals to prepare, I'm still not cooked all the way through!"

Jak and Ratchet whipped around to see M Bison lifting the shuttle over his head. With a grunt and much bulging of the muscles in his arms and legs, Bison hefted the shuttle over his head and threw it off the Halberd. He then steadied himself and entered a combat pose. Although his uniform was now in tatters and there were some gashes on his exposed torso, his body was obviously still functioning perfectly well for the most part.

"Son of a Qwark!" swore Ratchet in disbelief.

"Is this guy unstoppable?!" exclaimed Jak.

"I prefer 'implacable'," corrected Bison with his undying wide grin. "It's a much nicer word."

"Gentlemen," announced Clank, "it appears our work is not yet finished."

Ratchet hefted his weapon. "But it will be soon. Jak, willing to lend us a hand?"

Jak snarled, drawing his Morphgun. "Dammit! I guess so, but I'd rather be dealing with the bigger problem."

"Right now," said Bison with a dramatic shrug, "I'm your entire world."

Bison charged.

* * *

"Face my fist-tastic justice, evildoer!"

Murray threw a punch, but Tai Lung grabbed his fist with ease. Murray retaliated by punching the snow leopard in the face with his other hand, making Tai Lung stagger back.

"Hah! You're stronger than you look, hippo!" Tai Lung leaped towards Murray, unsheathing his claws mid-air for effect. Murray hopped backwards, barely dodging Tai Lung's sweeping slash.

"Comes with the territory, pal. My friends need me to be the strongest guy around!" Murray said as he unleashed a barrage of punches onto Tai Lung's torso.

"You and I could have a most enjoyable battle," noted Tai Lung, knocking Murray's legs out from under him with a kick. "But that will have to wait. Currently, I'm looking for someone." He picked up the nearest thing on hand - which happened to be a paralysed Luigi - and threw him at Murray, sending both tumbling down the hallway.

Footsteps were approaching him. Tai Lung spun around and roared at his new opponents. "_**Who's next?**_" Valkyrie snapped a fireball into her hand, Auron brought his sword off his shoulder, and Sokka drew his boomerang.

Tai Lung smiled. He was in his element.

##

"Sokka's down this way," Aang yelled to Toph, dragging her by the wrist. "Hurry up!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" protested Toph, who was having difficulty navigating the battleship's corridors. "What's the rush?"

"I saw a giant leopard go that way!" spluttered Aang.

"Oh," blinked Toph. "Yeah, that is kind of bad."

Aang turned a corner and almost ran straight into Ty Lee.

"Excuse me," said Ty Lee politely, smiling widely. "But did you just say something about a snow leopard?"

"Yes!" answered Aang. "It went that way!"

"Okay, I'll tag along with you then!"

Aang was briefly confused by Ty Lee's grin, but decided that there were more pressing matters at hand. The three continued running through the bowels of the ship, and soon came to a larger hallway. The sound of a battle was nearby. Valkyrie Cain was thrown out of a nearby door, landed on her feet, and shot back in, her coat fluttering from the force of displaced air.

"I think we found the right place," said Aang.

"Just maybe," agreed Toph.

They went to go inside, but someone yelled behind them. "Stop there!"

The three turned. It was Revan, out of breath from running. In one hand, he clutched Meta Knight's sword.

"Aang! ...Toph," he said. "I need to speak with you."

"But…" Aang glanced at the door in front of him. "People are getting hurt in there."

"It's just a distraction. There's a far worse threat, and I need _your_ help in fighting it. Whoever's in there, I'm sure my friend Ty Lee can handle it."

"Thanks!" chirped Ty Lee. Then her brow furrowed slightly. "So you don't want me to stay?"

"Just Aang and Toph," said Revan diplomatically. "You're needed in there."

"Well, okay! Yell if you need me!" Ty Lee skipped over to the door, looked in, and said "It _is _you!" before cartwheeling inside.

"So what's this super important thing you need us to-" began Toph. She couldn't finish the sentence due to the fact she suddenly fell unconscious.

Aang yelped. "What just happened?!"

"Apologies," said Revan. "I stunned her. It's so much easier to hold someone when they're not squirming."

"Statement: You are as wise as ever, Master," came a voice from somewhere within Revan's cloak.

He grabbed Toph, holding her roughly by the hair, and pressed Galaxia against her throat. "You have five seconds to go Avatar State," said the Jedi calmly, "before I kill your friend here."

Aang was almost speechless with shock. "Wh… why are you-"

"As I said. We're facing a formidable opponent, and I need you. Well, not you. The Avatar. Three seconds."

Aang tried to knock Toph out of Revan's hands with a gust of air, but the Jedi's grip was too strong.

"Please," begged Aang, "I can't do it at will!"

Revan said, "Zero seconds," and cut.

##

Tai Lung and Ty Lee had begun fighting with gusto, dodging each other nimbly.

"It's good to see you again, girl," smiled Tai Lung. "However briefly."

Ty Lee laughed. "Good one! I'm glad to see you're okay."

Valkyrie shared a glance with Sokka. "Is… there something wrong with that girl?"

"You don't know the half of it," he replied, throwing his boomerang.

Tai Lung caught the boomerang, used it to deflect a sword swing from Auron, and then kicked Auron in front of a fireball Valkyrie had thrown. The swordsman grunted and hit the wall, but remained standing. Tai Lung dropped the boomerang and turned his attention back to Ty Lee.

"He seems to be focusing on her in particular," noted Valkyrie, preparing shadows. "Maybe we should leave the two to fight and go find the other invaders."

Ty Lee fluidly ducked under one of Tai Lung's punches and disabled one of his legs and an arm.

"Isn't that a little cruel?" asked Auron, realigning his sword.

Tai Lung threw himself forward, grabbing Ty Lee and jabbing a finger into her stomach.

"I guess," said Sokka, "but remember he attacked _us_ first."

Valkyrie was about to respond when a scream of rage tore through the ship. Everyone turned to face the direction it had come from just in time to see the wall erupt into a multitude of splinters. They were thrown backwards from the force of an explosion. Ty Lee and Tai Lung flew into the desert, still trying to hit each other. Not seeing Auron, Valkyrie focused on the air around her and brought herself and Sokka – who was screaming like a little girl – into a safe landing.

"The hell was that?" she exclaimed when both were on their feet, some distance from the ship. Sokka didn't answer. He was staring in silence back the way they had come. Valkyrie followed his gaze.

Floating in a huge bubble of moving air was Aang. His tattoos were glowing brightly. When he opened his eyes, they were also glowing blue. The bubble had ripped the rear hull of the Halberd open, and now the tower was slowly collapsing towards Aang. Without looking at it, Aang moved his arms and the tower was buffeted away by wind as though it was as light as a feather. It crashed into the sand nearby. Aang snapped his attention to someone Sokka and Valkyrie couldn't see, and hit them with dual streams of fire.

"This is bad," said Sokka. "There's no stopping him when he's like this." He thought for a moment. "Wait, maybe it's good! He's got all his powers back; maybe now he can stop the invaders!"

"That's super," said Valkyrie, watching Aang propel a black figure through the air with a spike of stone, before floating debris around himself to use as projectiles. "So... will we just stay here then?"

"I'll admit that going back doesn't look like a great plan..."

"Well, in that case, let's go looking for the others. I think they were thrown pretty far."

##

Tai Lung landed on a sand dune, impacting forcefully and sliding down its slope. He was turned over slowly, and eventually came to a stop at the bottom facing up, looking at the starry night sky.

He tried moving and found that once again his limbs had failed him. He sighed. Things couldn't get much worse.

It was at that moment that a pink blur slammed into the dune above him, rolled down, bounced off his chest, and came to a stop near him.

"Phew! That was close," said Ty Lee. "I thought I was done for. Thanks for breaking my fall!"

"My _pleasure_," wheezed Tai Lung. "If you're so grateful, maybe you'd undo what you've done to me?"

"Sorry. I can't." Ty Lee's smile was evident in her voice. "You paralysed me as well. I can't move!"

"Oh." Tai Lung tested a few different ways of dragging himself away, and found none of them would get him out of the hole of sand he was in. He was stuck.

"... Truce?" he said.


	26. FP4: Circle of Death

"And the amount of times they mention their stupid thumbs!" Vitani was saying.

Scar nodded understandingly. "It's quite absurd. I once got insulted for having a reliance on oxygen, although I think that was less to do with me and more to do with my conversation partner..." His emerald eyes widened. "My word, speak of the devil."

At that moment, Loki wandered into the room, wiping blood off of his staff with a scrap of cloth.

"Ah!" he said when his eyes landed on Scar. "There you are. I wondered where you had gotten off to."

"Evidently, right here."

"Quite."

"Um," said Vitani.

"Pardon me, where are my manners," said Scar. "Loki, this is my daughter, Vitani. Vitani, this is Loki, the man who plucked me from the vacuum of space."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," smiled Loki.

"The pleasure's all mine," replied Vitani, "how do you do whoa_, whoa._ What was that about space?"

"We can discuss that later," said Loki. "But for now, I must ask. Scar, how many people have you killed since arriving?"

"Ah, well, killing isn't my plan," Scar said deviously. "As you can plainly see, I have established myself in their medical bay. Anyone who comes here to heal their wounds will find only me!"

"That's not what you told me," said Vitani.

"Yes it is. Be quiet."

"That's very impressive, Scar," said Loki patronizingly. "I'm sure that's working like a charm. Do you want to know what I've done?"

"Sure, whatever," said Scar.

"Well. Firstly, I stabbed the big man who shot me earlier. Then, I stabbed the scarred man. Then, the big man again. Then, the soldiers. The red one gave me a nice shoulder bruise with his firearm, but the blue one just whimpered something about a church. Then, I had to stab the big man a third time. By now, I had realized stabbing him only seemed to make him angry, so I abandoned that project. I made my way up here, being sure to evade the now thoroughly incensed man, along the way searching for my brother, so I could stab him."

"That's... impressive," said Scar.

"I thought so," smiled Loki. "But I can always do better. Which brings me to my next question." He pointed to Vitani. "Are you going to finish that?"

Scar chuckled. "Why, we can of course make exceptions, can't we? Who said we have to kill everyone we found?"

"Maleficent," answered Loki. "As I recall, her exact words were, and I quote, 'Kill everyone you find'."

"Hard to argue with that," said Vitani. "Although you should. Please argue with that."

"What's the matter, Scar?" said Loki, his tone growing venomous. "What happened to hating your family? Being content to see them all burn?"

"There's an exception to every rule..."

Loki scoffed mockingly. "You're just weak. If you won't kill her, I'll be happy to."

"Can we investigate other options?" asked Vitani, throwing a pleading look to Scar.

Scar felt himself begin to sweat.

"You're a coward, Scar," smirked Loki. "You want to get off this ship still breathing. That's not going to happen if you turn your back on me."

"What are you going to do?" asked Vitani desperately, who felt as though she had her back to a cliff. "You wouldn't kill your own _daughter_."

Scar yearned for a distraction, which was partly why he yelled "Look, it's Maleficent!" However, it was mostly because Maleficent had just entered the room.

"Astute," she said dryly. "All going well?"

"Well, actually -" Loki began, but Maleficent cut him off.

"Excellent. I don't really care. I'm here for another reason."

"And that is?" Loki asked, annoyed.

"So far, my modification to the Death Note has proved wonderfully successful. However, I still have some experimentation to do." She smiled at Loki. "The others think you immortal. Shall we test that?"

Loki's eyes widened. His mind instantly understood the situation but his body reacted marginally too slowly. He went to dive across the room, but Maleficent anticipated which direction he would go. She shot green fire and hit the god right in the face. He paled briefly, still in motion, and then crumpled. His inertia carried him along the floor for a while, but he soon came to a stop, his staff clattering away. He lay, face-down, unmoving.

"Well..." said Vitani, "at least that looked painless. Right, Scar?" She turned around and Scar wasn't where he had been. With Maleficent in the doorway and no other cover in the room, it was obvious he was hiding under the beds. Vitani rolled her eyes.

"Painless, hmm?" Maleficent said, focusing on the lioness. "Yes, you make a good point. I had better reserve this for those I cannot deal with in more simplistic ways. Thank you for the advice."

From under the bed, Scar heard Vitani begin to say "Well, you can show your gratitude b-". That's as far as she got. Scar heard a thump, and Vitani exhaling painfully. Then, two more thumps, followed by another. A thump on the other side of the room, a quiet thump, a loud thump, and then the thud of Vitani's body falling to the ground. And then, Maleficent's laughter.

"Now, Scar," she called. "You may have noticed I no longer need you – not that I ever _did_, to be frank. But come out now and I'll consider keeping you as... I hesitate to use the term 'pet', since that denotes some degree of attachment..."

Scar huddled under the bed, head under his paws, for what little protection it offered him.

"No? Very well. I'll set fire to the whole room in th-"

Suddenly, Scar felt the entire ship shake with a mighty vibration, one even more powerful than the explosions which had claimed the engine room and bridge. The bed nearly fell over as the ship lurched forward and then sank back.

"What caused that?!" Maleficent glided out into the hall, forgetting Scar.

The lion gently crept out, satisfied she had left. Vitani raised her head, her breathing rattling, and glared at him.

"Great going," she growled. "That was amazing, Father. First-class heroics. I'm _**so**_ glad you were here."

"Hush," he snapped, but his expression was sorrowful, not angry. He looked over his daughter's wounds. The prognosis was not good.

Vitani waved a paw in front of his face. "Listen. _Listen_. See the red thing?" Scar saw the device she was pointing to – the Medigun, which had fallen to the floor during the quaking. "It's... important," she continued. "Something about not being hurt. You can... you can use it to..."

Those were the last words she spoke. Scar sat quietly, staring at the bodies of Vitani and Loki.

* * *

Clank activated his thrusters, propelling Ratchet out of the reach of Bison's hands. Jak crouched nearby, collecting himself after a painful blow from Bison. He glowed white briefly, and then hopped to his feet, completely uninjured. He ran at Bison, firing into his back. When he was close to his enemy, he elbowed Bison in the back, unbalancing him, and then roundhouse-kicked him in the face.

Bison, despite having to juggle Ratchet, Clank and Jak, was still performing admirably. So admirably, in fact, he grabbed Jak by the throat and began to literally juggle him via a series of uppercuts. Ratchet managed to break his combo by unleashing another blaster salvo on him. Bison allowed Jak to fall, but charged at Ratchet again.

Bison smacked Ratchet away and tore Clank off of his back. He raised the tiny robot into the air victoriously.

"_I'll __**crush you**_!" roared Bison. His steadily growing list of injuries had taken a toll on his eloquence.

At that instant, the ship rocked with a mighty shudder. Although the people inside the ship had felt it to a great degree, the shaking was even more pronounced on deck. Ratchet and Jak struggled to remain on top of the ship. M Bison's footing became uncertain, so Clank seized the opportunity to blast him away with some rocket thrust. Bison stumbled away til he stood at the absolute prow.

"Come _on_," pleaded Jak. "Just die."

"Never!" roared Bison almost hysterically. "You can never kill me!"

Ratchet, Clank and Jak all shared a mischievous look. "I believe there's only one way to verify that," said Clank.

"Right behind you, pal," agreed Ratchet. He readied his biggest weapon while Jak set his MorphGun to the Peacemaker setting.

Bison managed one final laugh. "As if you could poss-"

"Shut up," said Jak. He and Ratchet fired in unison, producing two massive gouts of energy. They struck Bison simultaneously and threw him into the air, speeding away from the Halberd.

##

Thor and War Machine flew over the desert, Sly balancing on the latter's back.

"I've been getting bits and pieces of communication," said Rhodes as they approached the Halberd. "Things are pretty bad from the sound of it."

Thor was about to say something, but instead saw something and hastily swerved to dodge it. M Bison flew past them, moving in the opposite direction. He spun in the air, his limbs flailing limply.

Sly, Thor and War Machine shared looks as the warlord disappeared into the desert.

"Huh," said Sly.

The three soon touched down next to Ratchet, Clank and Jak, who had watched Bison's trajectory with no small amount of pride.

"Good work, guys," complimented Sly. "I guess that's one less guy to worry about."

"For the last time, it's not them who are the problem!" yelled Jak. "Maleficent's the issue here."

As he hurriedly filled them in on the sorceress' new abilities, War Machine looked out into the desert. "I'm going to check to see if Bison's really dead," he said, rising into the air.

Ratchet went to say something, but then checked himself. "Yeah. Good idea. You do that."

"Be right back!" War Machine took off into the desert.

"I shall investigate the ship," said Thor. "Good luck." He hefted Mjolnir and flew into the bridge.

"So," said Sly. "What are we going to do about this Death Note thing?"

"Revan said he had a plan to stop it," said Jak.

"Was that plan 'make Aang go nuts'?" asked Sly dubiously.

Jak looked at him. "What?"

"I saw from the air. Honestly, how have you guys not noticed yet?" Sly lead them to the side of the deck and pointed. The three others followed his gaze.

Aang was flying in the air, screaming and shooting fire and rocks at Revan, who danced below him. Revan seemed unconcerned, as though he was waiting for something more important.

"All in favour of going to the other side of the ship?" asked Ratchet. The others nodded urgently in unison.

"I think I saw Iroh over there anyway," said Sly. "I'd like to check he's okay."

"Right," said Jak. "That's a good excuse for avoiding that kid."

* * *

Bentley, Phoenix and Layton came to a stop, the latter two gasping for breath. They were now far from the boardroom and, they hoped, any other homicidal invaders.

"Oh man," groaned Phoenix, hand over his face. "I think I'm going to be sick. Poor L..."

"Don't you deal with such things as your profession?" asked Layton, in an attempt to calm him down.

Phoenix shook his head. "I just talk about people's necks getting snapped. Doesn't mean I like watching it."

Suddenly, the whole ship shook under their feet. Layton and Phoenix steadied themselves on the walls while Bentley frowned.

"That sounded important," he muttered. "I'd better go see what that was." He wheeled himself down to the end of the corridor and placed a bomb on the ceiling.

"Where are you going?" asked Phoenix, as the bomb blew a hole in the ceiling.

"I can use my boosters to travel up to the top of the ship, and get a vantage point to assess our situation," explained Bentley, gesturing to the small rockets on his wheelchair. "The view is always better from the rooftops."

"Can we stay in touch, at least?" said Layton.

Bentley threw a small communicator to him. "Here, take this. You have your phone, Mr Wright?"

"I do, yeah."

"Good luck then." Bentley went to under the hole and then ascended to the ship's next level, propelled by his boosters.

Layton turned to Phoenix as he pocketed the communicator. "What would you like to do?"

Phoenix shuddered. "Hide in a cupboard?"

Layton nodded stoically. "Your fear is not misplaced. I believe we should travel to the centre of the ship, since, to be frank, neither of us are any physical match for these sorcerers and mercenaries."

"Good point, well made."

With that the two descended further into the ship.

* * *

Maleficent arrived at the side of the ship, ignoring the flames which were beginning to creep through the vessel. She blew a hole in the ship's wall and looked out into the expanse of debris outside, wondering what had caused the explosion.

She soon found out. She felt herself suddenly and violently be pulled through the ship's wall by an unseen power. She landed in the sand and whipped her head up to see that Revan had grabbed her with the Force and forced her outside.

"Ah, if it isn't you again," she greeted with an intentionally obviously forced warmth. "Not satisfied with living? Want to ensure your death by my hand?"

"Actually, I've taken a page out of your book," he replied smugly. "I have someone to do that for me now."

Before Maleficent could respond, she was unbalanced by a huge gust of air, knocking her forward. A spike of stone came from the ground and struck her in the face, sending her airborne. She barely had time to focus her vision on her attacker, a young boy floating in the air, before he blasted her with a huge gout of flames and sent her spiralling away.

Aang roared and flew after his new target, instinctively knowing she wasn't dead. Revan ran after him, pleased with what he had wrought.

* * *

Horrible opened his eyes blearily. He was met by a skull hovering over his face. He yelped.

"Easy," said the skeleton. "You don't want to aggravate your wounds." Horrible was perturbed by the skeleton's smooth voice, but this quickly reminded him of who he was speaking to.

"Skulduggery, isn't it?" he wheezed.

"It is. It's good you remember my name. It's a general courtesy you afford to people who stop you from falling to your death."

"Thanks..."

"Any time."

Horrible rubbed his face. "What happened?"

"Iron Man went nuts and broke your shuttle. Everyone's gone, either fighting him or to get the Death Note."

"What happened to him?" asked Horrible.

Skulduggery shrugged. "I don't know. I turned off my phone."

"Why?"

"Difference of opinion between me and _Command_," explained Skulduggery, expressing the word distastefully. "Specifically on the matter of you not dying."

"I guess from the fact I'm still alive that you won the argument?"

"Won. Abandoned. Same thing."

Horrible sat up with some difficulty. "Thanks... again. So now what?"

"First things first. Are you okay to be moved?"

Horrible considered the question. "I... yeah. I am."

"Good. Going to Maleficent's castle seems a little pointless now, seeing as I saw both shuttles head back to the Halberd. So I suggest we go back there."

"Lead on," grimaced the Scientist.

Skulduggery sighed. "I suppose it's time to turn my phone." It flicked on. "Hmm. 54 missed calls."

"That's a lot..."

"Probably not that important," shrugged Skulduggery. He pressed a button to get more information on them. "Five of them from Valkyrie. Nevermind. Let's go."

He hooked his arm under Horrible's armpits and lifted gently into the air. Then he flew forward as quickly as the doctor was comfortable with, leaving Fox behind.

* * *

Luigi was heavily wounded. He hadn't fared well against Tai Lung, but it was the explosion, and the resulting shower of sharp fragments of wood and metal, which had really injured him. He dragged himself through the wreckage, which was becoming increasingly copious as Aang and Maleficent waged their explosive conflict nearby.

He pulled himself past a corner and bumped his head into a black leg. He looked up to see Revan towering over him. "Thank-a goodness!" he choked. "Someone to help me!"

"My thoughts exactly," purred Revan.

Luigi stared at him, confused. Before he could ask his meaning, Revan lifted him with the Force and threw him into the air.

Revan watched with pride as Luigi's flailing form intercepted a green projectile from Maleficent's staff which had been aiming for Aang's face. The blast was absorbed by Luigi, who ceased moving immediately. Aang continued attacking Maleficent, seemingly oblivious to what had just happened.

"Hey!" A voice from behind him caught Revan's attention. He turned to see an injured Sarge lying in the rubble.

"You team-killing fucktard!" he swore. "Just what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Maleficent's blasts are lethal," explained Revan calmly. "And a dying Luigi is worth much less to the war effort than a fully powered Avatar."

"But why can't you just block those blasts with rocks or something?" asked Sarge furiously.

Revan considered this. When Maleficent fired again at Aang, Revan lifted a scrap of debris and pushed it into the blast's trajectory. It nullified the fire just as effectively as Luigi had.

"Oh," said Revan. "Whoops. How embarrassing. This is more efficient. Thank you for your valuable input."

"Statement: There's no need to be so kindly to the rabble, Master," offered Revan's cloak.

Sarge had weakly raised his shotgun to shoot Revan. He pulled the trigger and Revan casually twirled his gun around. The result was Sarge inadvertently shooting himself in the torso.

"Son of a bitch..." gasped Sarge upon being shot, sinking even further into the rubble. Revan strode away from him, lifting more pieces of rubble and pushing them into the air.

* * *

Thor flew through the bridge, past the headless HK-47 and the crumpled Meta Knight, and past the boardroom, ignoring the copious fire spewing from it into the corridors. He landed outside the med bay, deciding that medical supplies might soon be in high demand among the mortals.

He stepped inside, looking around with a good-natured expression. His slight smile immediately died when he saw the pale body on the other side of the room. He almost dropped Mjolnir as he approached it. When he turned it face-up, his terrible suspicions were confirmed.

His poor brother, Loki. Dead.

He let out an anguished cry, his eyes tearing up. He lifted his brother's head with one hand, examining him, desperately hoping for some sign of life. But somehow, his brother had been killed. The fact he assumed such a thing to be basically impossible amplified his grief tenfold.

"Are... are you Thor?" a quiet voice queried from the shadows. The Odinson whirled around, snarling. His watered eyes affixed on two lions, such as he had seen in the Pridelands – a female, dead, and a male, grieving.

"I am," he said, his emotions steeling under the pressure of his sorrow. "Who did this to my brother?!"

"Maleficent," Scar practically whispered. "Maleficent killed him."

Thor roared and began spinning Mjolnir. Scar pressed himself to the ground, terrified that the Norse god would take his rage out on him. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"The Midgardians call me an Avenger," said Thor, his eyes burning. "So, I will **avenge!**"

He shot Mjolnir to the side, blasting through the Halberd's wall as though it was paper. Scar watched him disappear, awed.

* * *

Maleficent yelled in frustration, irked that her fatal spell was constantly stopped from ending Aang by Revan. She abruptly changed tactics, moving a pile of debris to entrap Aang. The Avatar immediately began fighting his way out, but it gave Maleficent time to spin on her heel and shoot at the dark Jedi nearby.

Revan lifted a piece of debris in front of his face. The blast shattered the debris, but Revan was untouched. Maleficent fired again, and again Revan defended himself.

"You're a fool," Revan remarked as he drew closer. "The Death Note was this beautifully efficient thing. There was no avoiding it. It was cosmic. And what do you do with it? You make it work off of brightly coloured, easily deflected projectiles. Moron."

"I don't quite have the time to listen to you blather," rejoined Maleficent. "But if it really bothers you that much…"

Revan gasped as he felt a spike of metal launch out of the nearby wreckage and impale his torso from behind. His breath caught in his throat and he slowly sank to his knees.

"As you yourself demonstrated, for all the powerful and complicated tricks a sorcerer can learn," said Maleficent dryly, "nothing beats the simple majesty of moving objects through the air."

"Oh, yes," spat Revan, feeling blood pooling in his mouth. "Nothing quite like it."

Maleficent raised her staff to finish Revan off. As he fell forward, Revan shoved his hand to the side. A mountain of debris cleared and slammed into Maleficent, flinging her away. Revan sank to the ground, drifting out of consciousness, and tried to focus on his breathing.

* * *

Scar hadn't wanted to leave the med bay.

Honestly, he hadn't wanted to do anything. After seeing both Loki, his new friend, and Vitani, his estranged daughter, killed by Maleficent, his mind had essentially switched off. But seeing Thor's willingness to avenge Loki, despite their history, had inspired him to action. He had picked up the Medigun in his mouth, gave one final wistful look to Loki and Vitani, and entered the increasingly smoky corridors.

Turning a corner, he almost bumped into Spoony, who was urgently trying to find his opponents, Zat in hand. Spoony's eyes widened, then narrowed, upon seeing Scar.

"Ah, how _lucky _for me," said Scar, placing the Medigun on the ground. "A familiar face."

"Last face you'll ever see, you son of a bitch," said Spoony, pointing his weapon at him. "Though you _are_ lucky it's so handsome. Why aren't you dead?"

"No time for that," said Scar shortly. "Tell me where Maleficent is. I want to help you stop her."

Spoony glared at him. "Oh, do you now? Why's that?"

"I have every reason to oppose Maleficent," snarled Scar. "She's taken everything from me in one fell swoop!"

"Sure," growled Spoony. "Let's let the known traitor give us some 'help'. How stupid do I look?"

Scar's demeanour, already stretched thin over stress, quickly unravelled. "No, please!" he begged. "I'm telling the _**truth**_!"

Spoony simply struck Scar in the head with a shot of blue electricity. Scar's eyes widened in pain, and then unfocused. His legs fell out from under him and he collapsed on to his side. The last thing he saw was Spoony preparing to fire a second time before the black void of unconsciousness claimed him yet again.


	27. FP5: Mind over Magic

Linkara helped Angry Joe through the darkening hallways of the Halberd. He steadied Joe with one arm, and the other he had outstretched, prepared to shoot any sudden opponents with his magic gun.

"Honestly, I'm fine!" protested Joe. "Let me go shoot up some bitches!"

"Dude, we just got beaten up by Dr Doom," said Linkara in a loud, matter-of-fact voice. "If ever there was a time to take a few minutes break, it's now."

"So we're not going to fight back?!" demanded Joe.

"Sure we are," said Linkara. "Just not with our guns. Ah, finally!" Turning a corner, he saw a station which granted access to the ship's intercom's systems. Linkara released Joe, who, despite his complaints, was more than happy to slide to the floor for a few moments. Linkara went to the console and tried to get it to work.

"Do you really think that's still working?" asked Joe, an eyebrow raised. "I mean, the back of the ship exploded, then the front exploded, and then the middle exploded. Somewhere along the way, the power probably went out."

"Just _maybe_," replied Linkara sarcastically, "but there should still be enough infrastructure so that if I plug this into this, and route in some power from here, and finally patch in my wrist communicator, I _should_ be able to..."

##

Heavy turned a corner just in time to see Spoony shoot Scar with the Zat, and the lion collapse to the floor. Spoony prepared to make his second shot.

Heavy screamed in Spoony's ear, startling him and causing him to drop his weapon. "**What are you doing to Cat!?**"

"Gah, Christ!" Spoony collected himself, and then glared at him. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

Heavy pointed accusingly to the lion. "Why do you try to shoot my friend?"

"What?" Spoony seemed confused for a moment, then rolled his eyes. "Look again, you idiot. That's not Vitani. It's _Scar_. He's evil."

"Oh," said Heavy. He examined the animal again and realized he had indeed jumped to conclusions. Through the smoke billowing in the corridor, he had mistaken one leonine form for another.

As Spoony bent down to retrieve his Zat, Heavy also hunkered down and examined the Medigun. "He had this?" he asked.

"Yeah," coughed Spoony, fanning smoke out of his face. "Now stand aside. I'm shooting him this time, and no-one's gonna interrup-"

"_Hello!_" yelled a voice from Spoony's communicator, startling him a second time.

##

"This is Linkara," he said into War Machine's radio, as he skimmed over the desert.

##

"As you're no doubt aware, we kind of have a situation on our hands." Linkara's words echoed through the remains of the engine room. Cole twitched in his unconscious state as they were joined by urgent footsteps.

##

"There's a device, called the Anti-Magic Field Generator, in the centre of the ship," Linkara informed Phoenix and Layton in stereo. They shared a look and quickened their pace.

##

"From the looks of things, activating it is a good idea. Our opponents are more magic-reliant than we are," he continued. Sly listened to him on his Binucucom, watching Clank attend to an unconscious Iroh. He shot a look to Jak, who returned it.

##

"Best of luck to you all," he concluded, stepping away from the console.

Joe forced himself to stand. "What about the battery? The thing's not going to work without power, obviously."

Linkara frowned. "Guess we'll have to face that when we come to it. But for now, let's get back to looking for it. I can only hope someone is closer to it than we are."

##

"Hmm, the room that thing is in isn't too far away," mused Spoony. "We can go get it after I finish Scar off."

Heavy grabbed Spoony by the collar and began dragging him down the hallway. "No time! We must get it now!"

"What?!" spluttered Spoony. "Let go of me! It'll take three seconds to make sure he's dead!"

"Three seconds too many! Go go go!"

Spoony muttered under his breath as Scar's body disappeared around a corner. He didn't see Heavy's slight smile – pleased with his small way of repaying Vitani.

* * *

Maleficent, leaving Revan where he lay, resumed firing at Aang. The Avatar was a powerful and merciless opponent, and Maleficent often found herself being batted around by gusts of air or stone walls, or having to bear bursts of fire. On occasion, Aang would even pull moisture out of the air and form it into ice, shooting spikes at her. However, the fires burning nearby eventually made this impossible.

In any case, she bode her time. Her shields, against the odds, were still holding up. She also knew that while the Avatar State was brutal, it was also directionless and animalistic. Aang didn't have the cognitive faculties at that moment to fully process his opponent's patterns or their significance. Now that she had dealt with Revan, who was the one holding the proverbial leash, this was even more true. All she had to do was wait for the moment to strike, and even the mighty Avatar would fall.

When Aang began sucking in air after a particularly lengthy stream of fire, Maleficent thought she had found that moment. Smirking, she raised her staff and prepared to fire.

Suddenly, a heavy weapon slammed into her side, knocking her across the battlefield and into a mound of debris. She roared in frustration, growing ever more vexed with the constant interruptions and interventions.

"**Hellfire**!" she cursed. "Who dares strike me?"

She watched as Mjolnir flew back to Thor's hand. He rose into the air with it, glowering at Maleficent forcefully.

"Hello," he spat. "My name is Thor Odinson. You killed my brother. Prepare to die."

Maleficent's smirk returned. "Ah, Thor. Brother of Loki. We've heard _so much_ about you. Were I in your position, I wouldn't be quite so enthusiastic about avenging that scoundrel."

Thor snarled and advanced, but suddenly both were blown back by a strong air current. Thor fell to earth to steady himself, and Maleficent likewise crouched down to keep her position.

Aang roared, again ready to battle. His glowing eyes bounced from Thor to Maleficent, studying both. He then shot a spike of stone out of the ground, sending Thor airborne, and began peppering him with flames.

Thor shouted, more in anger than pain, and stabilized his trajectory. Maleficent leaned on her staff and watched the two fight, pleased at having a short break – complete with entertainment.

"I am not your enemy, Aang!" shouted Thor, ducking under more fire. "Try to think!"

Aang merely shot stone spikes at him in response, some successfully hitting Thor's face.

Thor wiped his nose and grimaced. "Very well." He hefted Mjolnir and summoned lightning, striking Aang on the head. Aang wobbled in the air, but remained floating.

Thor frowned and decided to repeat the action, attempting to emulate Black Widow's anti-mind control technique. However, this time Aang knew what was coming. When the lightning came down on him, he raised two fingers in the air, held tightly together. To Thor's amazement, the Avatar's hand absorbed the electricity as effectively as any lightning rod. Aang felt the energy swell in his stomach, and then, pointing the fingers of his other hand at Thor, he released it. The lightning slammed into Thor and threw him backwards, Mjolnir falling from his grasp.

Aang breathed fire in triumph and turned back to his first opponent. He turned around just in time to see a green blast fill his vision, and then, it struck him. Aang gasped, and for a moment, he stopped glowing. His eyes returned to their usual grey for an instant before dimming. Then, he fell limply to the ground.

Maleficent strode over him, chuckling. One down.

Thor slammed into the ground, dazed. The last thing he made out before his vision slipped into darkness was Maleficent pointing her staff at his face, about to damn him to the same fate as his brother.

Maleficent shot at Thor, but her aim was abruptly thrown off by a powerful bullet slamming into her arm. Her shields held, but her balance was disrupted and she missed Thor by a wide margin.

She looked up to see Deadpool dramatically posing on top of a mound of debris. In his hand, Barry Burton's silver pistol gleamed in the moonlight, the barrel lightly smoking. Behind him were Murray, Auron and Sig, glaring down at Maleficent.

"Who avenges the Avengers, bitch?!" cried Deadpool triumphantly. He raised the pistol into the air. "**Charge**!" The group ran at Maleficent, raising their weapons and yelling battle cries.

##

From his vantage point on top of what remained of the Halberd, Bentley had scanned the area. A shuttle was parked next to the engine room – or at least, where the engine room had been. Aang's explosion had torn a hole in the side of the ship, and it was among this wreckage that Maleficent had fought Aang and Thor. Currently, it was where Bentley saw Murray charge towards Maleficent with a group of other fighters.

"What are you doing!?" yelled Bentley fretfully to himself. "She'll kill you, Murray! Don't be a hero!"

The quartet closed in on the sorcerer, Deadpool and Sig firing their weapons. Bentley braced himself for the worst. When they all came sufficiently close to Maleficent, she blew them back with a burst of green energy. She grabbed Deadpool via some magical method, tore the pistol from his hand, and slammed him into some detritus.

Bentley saw Murray fly through the air and land in a pile of sand some distance away. To the turtle's relief, he saw Murray pick himself up and bemusedly dust himself off.

"Interesting," murmured Bentley. "Very interesting..."

* * *

Spoony and Heavy stood staring into the flaming abyss which was once a corridor.

"Are you sure this is right direction?" asked Heavy, a rare expression of concern on his face.

"Afraid so," grimaced Spoony. "But anyone going in there... They're probably not coming out."

Heavy looked at the Medigun in his hand. "Tell me," he murmured softly. "Is your life good?"

"I review shitty games and movies for a living," replied Spoony pessimistically. "So no."

"Jobs are not fun," scoffed Heavy. "Your friends. People. How are they?"

Spoony shrugged, not sure where he was going. "Uh, well... I got a robot friend, that's pretty cool. And a really nice puppy. I probably have a few sane fans – _somewhere_... And Linkara and Joe, they both have my back."

Heavy clapped him on the shoulder. "Then go find them," he said. "Go make sure they are okay. Live for your friends. I will take care of this." He strode into the fires, breaking into a run.

Spoony watched him go, blinking confusedly. "Well, if you insist..."

* * *

Meanwhile, Phoenix and Layton had hit a similar problem.

"Look at all that fire," breathed Phoenix. "How are we going to get through that?"

"We're not," said Layton matter-of-factly, readying his communicator. "I will. You're going to guide me the rest of the way from here."

"What?! You can't be..." The lawyer trailed off when he saw Layton's expression. "Are... you sure?"

"I am," said Layton. "You've paid your dues and stopped your foe, Mr Wright. I cannot say the same. There is red in my proverbial ledger, and I will take any measures to remove it."

Phoenix tried to find an objection, but nothing came to him. Nothing which he knew would be sufficient to stop the professor. "Good luck, then," he murmured.

With a tip of his hat, Layton disappeared into the flame.

* * *

War Machine hadn't had trouble finding Bison's body, given how red stood stark against the pale yellow sands which filled the desert. He had ensured the warlord was dead by a variety of means. First, he had checked for any signs of a pulse or breath. Then, he shone a light in Bison's pupils. Finally, he had fired into the body with his two machine guns for two solid minutes, riddling him completely. Once this was completed, he was willing to accept Bison as dead.

Just as he turned to leave, he spotted two figures in the sky above him. Flying up to intercept them, he discovered they were Skulduggery and Dr Horrible.

"Good to see two more alive," said Rhodes, helping Skulduggery lift Horrible.

"Same to you," said Skulduggery. "I'll complain about how you left me with three falling bodies later. What's the situation?"

War Machine filled the two in, as best he could, on the Ironwerk incident and the more recent invasion of the ship.

"Right," said Skulduggery. "We'll need the Anti-Magic Field Generator, at any rate."

"What? How did you know that?" asked War Machine.

"Got a call from Valkyrie a while back," said Skulduggery. "She's also not dead, by the way, and unlikely to die any time soon. She told me that the Avatar's gone nuts, and that there's a device in the centre of the ship that nullifies magic. We should go get it."

"Makes sense to me," said Rhodes.

"Up for a little repair work?" Skulduggery asked Horrible.

The doctor nodded. "If those guys are attacking your ship, Maleficent might be with them." Horrible smiled evilly, and Skulduggery began to see why the Scientist had chosen his career path. "I'd like to see that heartless witch try to act so _superior_ without her magic."

Kids, he may not have said 'witch'.

* * *

Bravery is relative.

As Scar had once noted to Loki, it's far easier to be fearless when you think yourself immortal. Loki wouldn't have thought twice about traversing a burning corridor, except perhaps about the effect it may have on his clothes. Likewise, out of everyone involved in these series of events, many would gladly step into a gauntlet of flames, knowing that it was little obstacle to them or their protective powers.

Not so for Professor Layton. He had no regenerative powers to safeguard him, nor a suit of armour, nor mastery over the element of fire itself. He was not a god, nor a sorcerer, nor a superhero; he was merely a mild-mannered academic. Yet despite the flames twisting menacingly towards his clothes, the smoke which blinded him, and the omnipresent, overbearing heat, his pace never wavered. There was something which needed doing, and he would do it, regardless of how daunting it seemed. The chance of him failing was all too high, but he refused to acknowledge it. What purpose would it serve but to slow him down? Instead, he kept running, his arm over his face, going ever deeper into the seething labyrinth, following the worried but steady directions arriving into his ear.

After an eternity of heat and burning, he found the door he sought. The doorknob was metal and would have been scalding to the touch. It was quite fortune for Professor Layton, then, that he elected to ignore the doorknob entirely. Doorknobs were for those gentlemen who had even the slightest amount of time to spare.

Instead, he threw himself against the door and it swung open for him. He fell into the room inside, which was mercifully flame-free. He shut the thick door behind him – the reason the fire had not yet spread – and took a few seconds of well-deserved break to expel some of the smoke from his lungs.

"Did you make it?" Phoenix asked over his phone.

Layton gave another rattling cough before answering. "I have indeed," he said, his watering eyes landing on the Anti-Magic Field Generator. The device lay innocuously on the table where Linkara had left it days before. "The device is undamaged and in my possession. But I'm afraid it's not all good news."

"Why, what's wrong?"

Layton noted the smoke which was curling into the small room from under the door. "The fire is intensifying. I was capable of arriving here unscathed, but managing the same on the way back is improbable to say the least."

Phoenix ran his hand through his hair anxiously. "Alright. Hold on, professor. We'll think of something."

Layton lowered the communicator he had borrowed and sat on the table, gathering his wits. He tuned out the crackling noises outside and tried to work out a solution to this dilemma.

After a time, he realized that there was another sound among the burning; heavy footfalls, bearing down on his position. He saw the doorknob move slightly, touched from the other side, and then a Russian voice crying in pain and swearing loudly. Layton opened the door from his side – keeping his hand within his sleeve to be safe – and ushered in his new companion, shutting the door behind him.

Heavy Weapons Guy gratefully sucked in a few lungfuls of uncontaminated air. He held the Medigun in one hand, and leaned on the table with his other. After a coughing fit, he focused his eyes on the device on the table. Skipping pleasantries, he asked Layton "Is this Anti-Magic machine?"

"It is," said Layton. "The problem now is how to get it safely outside."

Heavy went to say something, but Layton's communicator interrupted. "Professor! Are you there?"

"I'm here," said Layton, bringing the phone to his ear. "What is it?"

"I've just been joined by three people. One of them is a Scientist, and says that he can fix the Field Generator. The other two say they can help get you out, and since they're a guy in huge armour and a skeleton, I don't really doubt them."

"But we're too far inside the ship," replied Layton soberly. "A rescue party couldn't get to us. I'd wager we'd at least have to get to one of the sides."

"I can get you there!" said Heavy loudly. He hefted the Medigun. "We run. You first, and I behind you. This will protect us from flames."

"Are you sure?"

Heavy shrugged. "Da. But, it may explode your heart. We will see, no?"

Layton grimaced. "I'm hardly in a position to decline..." Speaking into the phone, he said "Mr Wright, tell the others to wait starboard of the ship."

"That's...?"

"The right."

"Ah."

"We'll be there shortly." He clicked off the phone, brought the AMFG close to his chest, and opened the door. Heavy began using the Medigun on him, and nodded to him.

"You know, you are brave little man to come here," he remarked.

"I hadn't an option," replied Layton solidly. "I had to recompense for what I lost during these events."

"Da..." was all Heavy said. "You and me."

"Well. After me, then," said Layton, and ran back into the fire.

##

Skulduggery did his best to mitigate the fires in their chosen corridor, using a combination of his fire, water and air elemental powers. War Machine stood ready, prepared to grab Layton from the blaze as soon as he saw him. Nearby, Phoenix and Horrible looked on fretfully.

Suddenly, the professor and mercenary appeared. Layton looked extremely uncomfortable, but the fires clutching at his black clothing seemed not to be taking hold. The Medigun extinguishes its target, meaning that Layton was by and large unharmed.

The same could not be said of Heavy. His entire being was wrapped in flame, and he was obviously in great pain. Layton appeared to be unaware – Heavy was behind him, and was bearing his agony silently.

War Machine shot forward, grabbed Layton, and pulled him to the safe zone. As soon as Rhodes' metallic arm wrapped around the professor and pulled him to safety, Heavy appeared to relax. He released the Medigun and sank gratefully to his knees. By the time Skulduggery dragged him forward with the air, he was dead.

Dr Horrible took the AMFG from Layton as the professor looked down on Heavy. "My word," said Layton, eyes wide. "He said that we would be protected... What have I done?" He pulled his hat over his eyes, having caused yet another death.

"Professor," said Skulduggery softly, examining the Medigun, "this device isn't charged."

Layton raised his gaze to look at him. "Excuse me?"

"He knew what he was doing," explained Skulduggery. "He knew he would die. The only guarantee was _your_ safety."

"And your safety was the priority," added Rhodes.

Layton slowly sat on the ground. It was ungentlemanly, but he decided to make an exception. "His sacrifice won't be forgotten."

"It sure won't," said Horrible. He crouched over the Anti-Magic Field Generator. "But for now, let's get to work."


	28. FP6: And All the Powers of Hell

Sly, Ratchet, Clank and Jak picked their way through the rubble. After determining Iroh was stable, they had made their way around to the other side of the ship. They avoided the showdown they could hear being waged nearby. Although they were all usually more than willing to fight, Jak's recounting of Maleficent's powers had given them pause. A good battle is one thing; a suicide mission is another.

A voice came onto Sly's Binocucom. "Sly! Do you read me?"

"Bentley?"

"Thank goodness you're still alive! I was so worried!"

"Same here! Where are you?"

"I've positioned myself on the top of what's left of the ship. I've been observing Maleficent battle, and I believe I have some pertinent information."

"I'm all ears, pal."

"For reasons I do not and may never comprehend, Maleficent can kill people instantly with a burst of green flame. She focuses this attack on powerful opponents, such as Aang or Thor."

"So far, so hopeless."

"The interesting thing is that she doesn't use this tactic on people she sees as less of a threat – she barely pays attention to them."

"Wait, let me guess. If I look like I can't take her in a fight..."

"She _won't_ kill you on sight. And that may be the difference between life and death."

"Thanks, buddy. I can always rely on you for a plan."

"And I can always rely on _you_ to save the day. I'm moving in to extract Murray. Wish me luck."

"Of course. I'll see you all soon."

Sly lowered his Binocucom. The others looked at him expectantly.

"Well?" asked Ratchet.

"That was Bentley. He said that Maleficent doesn't use the Death Note on people she doesn't see as threats."

"And what do you intend to do with this information?" queried Clank.

Sly looked out over the rubble. Both Aang and Thor, their two gods, were down. Maleficent was amusing herself by picking up Deadpool and beating him off the ground.

"I'm going to walk up to her and distract her," he said.

"**What?!**" exploded Jak.

"Nuh-uh. Nope. Not letting you do that," said Ratchet.

"We can formulate a better plan!" protested Clank.

"Aren't you the one always going on about team-work?" said Jak.

"Yeah, I am," replied Sly. "I understand the importance of my friends. Which is why I'm not going to risk getting you guys killed."

"Come on! We can back you up!" yelled Ratchet.

"Brute force isn't working," countered Sly. "It's not slowing her down. All it does is cause more people to die. We can't beat her until the guys get the Anti-Magic machine, and they clearly need more time. Time I'm going to give them."

Ratchet and Jak shared an uneasy look. "Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?" asked Jak.

Sly looked around. He saw the wreckage of the ship. He saw the bodies, both injured and unmoving. He saw the destruction.

"Absolutely," he replied.

"Then I guess we can't stop you," sighed Ratchet. "And I can't give you a gun or else would be a threat."

Sly moved his arm. "I'm not sure I could use one of _your_ guns anyway."

Jak nodded to him. "Good luck, Cooper. Do what you can."

"We have the utmost confidence in you," said Clank.

"Good to know," smiled Sly. "Stay out of sight. Try to see if you can help anyone. I'll meet you guys after we win."

Sly turned and began to walk towards Maleficent. Ratchet called after him.

"Hey Sly?" Sly stopped. "This is _still_ more enjoyable than the alien fiasco."

Jak groaned. "Why would you even mention that at a time like this?"

Sly shot a grin back to Ratchet. Then, he continued onward, closing in on the sound of breaking bones.

* * *

"Augh! The fire! My armour does nothing!"

Caboose limped through the flaming corridors of the Halberd. Loki's staff had certainly stung, and the fire licking at his armour was hotter than he assumed it would be. He threw himself the last few feet towards a section of hallway which wasn't aflame, and rolled on the floor until the burning stopped.

Picking himself up, he scanned his smoke-filled surroundings. He made out out the shape of someone lying unconscious ahead of him.

"Oh no!" he said aloud, for little reason. "If that person doesn't wake up, they'll get on fire. And then naptime will be ruined...! And also they'd die!" He walked up to the figure and easily hefted their slight weight onto his strong blue shoulders, despite his injuries. "Don't worry, I'll save you," Caboose reassured his charge. He took off down the corridor, running towards the nearest exit.

"Aw man, everyone's going to be so proud of me for saving this kitty!" said Caboose happily. On his shoulders, Scar mumbled in his sleep.

* * *

"So?" Rhodes asked Dr Horrible, as the latter examined the Anti-Magic Field Generator. "What's the word?"

Horrible narrowed his eyes. "Well, the machine appears to be in full working order. But the battery's missing!"

"What?! Where is it!?" yelled Phoenix.

"You think I know?" Horrible shot back.

"It's probably somewhere here," said Skulduggery sardonically, gesturing to the large flaming carcass of the ship. "You check the cupboards, I'll check under the couch."

Rhodes thought for a moment, and suddenly removed his helmet. "Help me get out of this armour!" he yelled. Phoenix and Skulduggery aided him in pulling off the chest piece, and once this was accomplished Rhodes popped the Arc Reactor out and offered the circular energy source to Horrible. "This should do the trick," he said. "It keeps my whole suit powered, so a little thing like that should be nothing to it."

Horrible took the reactor and hurriedly scanned it for power outputs. He then pulled down his goggles and began work connecting it to the Field Generator.

Skulduggery shifted impatiently. "Can you hurry it up a bit?"

"I'm trying to use my Science to Science another man's Science into a third man's Science," snapped Horrible, "and it's proving to be pretty un-Scientific!"

"Can you be a little more specific?"

Horrible's eye twitched under his goggles. "This device runs on Raritanium. We don't have Raritanium, but we do have this reactor thing, which will have plenty of power. It's just a matter of adjusting the power output of the Reactor, and the power _input _of the Field Generator, in such a way that neither explode into little pieces when we connect them."

"We had an entire room of electrical engineers who rewired the whole ship," Phoenix noted, "which was ultimately pointless. Now, it's vitally important to wire one tiny thing into another tiny thing, and we only have one guy on hand to do it."

Skulduggery shook his head. "Sure isn't that always the way?"

From the floor, Layton cleared his throat. "Detective Pleasant, you do realize that when we activate this device, we're deactivating _you_. There's no telling whether you'll reanimate afterwards or not."

Skulduggery looked at him steadily. "I'm aware. But if this is your best chance of victory..."

Rhodes grimaced. "It's our only chance of victory."

"Exactly," nodded Skulduggery. "... Then who am I to stop you? Besides," he added, his tone slightly more jovial, "this still beats half of the plans I come up with." He produced his phone. "I'm going to make a call. Good luck getting it to work." He strode away.

"There!" yelled Horrible triumphantly after a time. He stepped back from his work, showing the Arc Reactor tentatively plugged into the AMFG's power supply. "I'm done."

"Don't waste time," ordered Rhodes. "Turn it on."

Dr Horrible reached over to the switch, silently pleading with the machine not to break. He flicked in on and set the dial to the maximum setting.

There was a terse silence. "I don't feel anything," said Phoenix.

"Are you magic?" asked Horrible.

"No."

"Then you wouldn't, would you?" said Rhodes bluntly.

Layton exhaled softly and leaned against a wall. "We can only hope that we've been successful," he said. "It's out of our hands now."

* * *

Sly approached Maleficent slowly, fully on his guard. She was still beating Deadpool against the ground, seemingly still amused by it. Stranger yet was the fact that Deadpool, too, was laughing.

"I can do this aaaaaaaall day, lady," he taunted. "Oop, my leg just broke. Again. Guess I'll never be able to walk again – oh wait! Hahahah! Oh hai Sly," he said, noticing the raccoon. "'Sup?"

"Ah, Mr Cooper," said Maleficent, allowing Deadpool to float in midair. "How nice of you to join us."

"Hello to you too," said Sly, shifting his injured arm.

"Come on!" said Deadpool. "You and me, we can take her! Let's work togeth_**AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!**_" Maleficent abruptly shot Deadpool upwards. Sly watched the screaming mercenary fly merrily into the air, until he disappeared into the darkness far above with a twinkle.

"Not that I should be encouraging use of your kill-stick, but... why didn't you just kill him?" asked Sly.

"He tried to punch me in the face," said Maleficent bluntly. "Death is too good for him. I need to torture him far more before I can do him such an honour."

"Of course," frowned Sly.

Maleficent stretched her arms. "Please. Allow me to guess. You have a speech."

"As it happens, I do have a few words prepared."

Maleficent rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Be swift. I retain the right to strike you down mid-sentence."

"Understood," said Sly, eyeing up a large chunk of debris near him, wondering if he could fit behind it at a moment's notice. "I just thought you might like to know why we've won."

"You haven't won," said Maleficent, half amused.

"Oh, but we have. We did from the beginning. There are two men – and a robot – back there I had to _beg_ not to follow me. It's a good thing I didn't have to restrain them, because they would have won. They wanted to stick by me, even knowing what you can do with that notebook."

"And?"

"_And_, it goes much further than that. That's just one way we stand up for each other. We've been working together since day one. We heal our wounded, we console our grieving, and we make sure we all get out in one piece. Whereas everyone you sent fought alone. And they lost alone too."

"Which will make it all the greater when I win, _alone_," said Maleficent. "You call it teamwork, I call it weakness."

"Clockwerk once told me that empathy had always been the downfall of my family," replied Sly. "But his boast seems a lot less powerful when you consider the fact that right now, he's sitting inactive in the desert, thanks to the selfless actions of two people accurately described as heroes."

Maleficent rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes. You'd all take a bullet for each other. But look around, Cooper. There's no-one nearby to take the bullet I've written your name on."

"No, I don't suppose there is," said Sly. "Not nearby."

Maleficent gave him a triumphant glare. "You have been a pain in my side for far too long. Now, this ends."

"Yes," said Sly gravely. "It does."

Maleficent raised her staff and aimed it at Sly's face. They stared each other down for a few moments, and then with a shout of rage Maleficent fired.

Nothing happened.

They stood in silence for a few seconds. Maleficent experimentally tried firing again, and then a third time. There was still no response.

Maleficent stared down first at her staff, and then the Death Note, shock and rage clear on her face. The green flames had been extinguished. She looked at Sly. He smiled innocently at her.

There were a few more seconds silence. And then, Maleficent smiled back. Sly's grin widened and so did Maleficent's. Then, she laughed quietly. Sly joined her. This slowly escalated. Before long the two were laughing like old friends, their shaking the only movement among the shattered remains of the Halberd.

"I told you!" Sly chuckled, leaning on a pile of splintered wood.

"Yes," smiled Maleficent. "You did." Within the space of an instant her smile evaporated into a scowl of pure fury and with one clean stroke she slammed her staff into Sly's face like a baseball bat. The glass tip shattered, leaving a jagged end and several small cuts on Sly's face.

Sly cried out in pain, but recovered quickly. Maleficent was charging at him, intent on beating him to death. Sly quickly hooked his cane around her staff and managed to push her back. She came at him again, staff swinging upwards. He nimbly stepped back.

"You're not going to win," he said. "I'm better at brawling than you'd ever be." Maleficent didn't respond with words, instead making her point by viciously striking Sly's broken arm. He grunted and backed away.

They fought for what seemed like hours, but was in actuality barely minutes. One, injured and tired, the other furious and completely inexperienced at this kind of battle. They were an even match, roughly, but Sly was certain he would win out.

It was to his dismay, then, when he tripped over a piece of debris and landed heavily on his back. His cane fell out of his reach, and before he could stand up again, the jagged glass of Maleficent's staff was bearing down on his throat. Sly grabbed it with his good hand, and with difficulty managed to keep it away from his neck.

"You've... lost... anyway," he pointed out. "You can't defend your...self from the... others."

"Perhaps not." Maleficent's smile was twisted and far beyond reason. "Perhaps my time has finally come. But by _Hell_, I am taking you with me."

Sly watched as, despite his best efforts, the sharp gleaming glass gradually approached his throat.

But then, the silence was broken by an odd noise. Sly looked up to see a crossbow bolt had hit Maleficent in her hand.

The sorceress paled, staring at her wound. She dropped of her staff, and Sly wasted no time in crawling away. He threw his head in the direction the bolt had come from, wondering who had saved him.

The moonlight shimmered on his saviour's armour. He was holding a crossbow, but he holstered this and took out a golden sword. There was a hole in his shirt, but the flesh underneath it was completely unharmed. He stepped closer, and Sly could see the good natured smile Hype bore despite the carnage around him.

Maleficent stared at him, cradling her hand. "The knight," she murmured disbelievingly. "He lives."

Hype smiled down at Sly and offered him his hand. Sly took it and stood. Then, Hype focused his attention on Maleficent. His expression hardened, and he walked towards her, sword held high.

Maleficent looked prepared to fight, but then she seemed to resign herself to her fate. "That's a powerful sword," she noted quietly. "Even without its magic, I recognize its strength. Has it a name?"

"The Sword of Peace," said Hype calmly.

Maleficent nodded to herself. "Sword of Peace. Sword of Truth. Swords of _goodness_." She looked to Hype, and then to Sly. "There's no point denying it. I am defenceless. Cooper... you win."

"Are you surrendering?" asked Sly.

Maleficent laughed hollowly. "Me? Surrender? Oh, what a thought. No. I don't surrender. Let the cowards who served me surrender to you if they wish. I am merely going to face my demise with some decorum."

"Um... thanks?" said Sly. "I'd be more inclined to be respectful to you if you hadn't killed so many people."

"As you wish." Maleficent tossed the Death Note aside disparagingly. Then she calmly met Hype's gaze. "Sir Knight, you may strike when ready."

Hype nodded. Then, he plunged his sword into Maleficent's chest. Sly averted his gaze, uncertain of how a being like Maleficent would die, but quite certain he didn't want to witness it. The scream she emitted was enough by itself.

By the time Sly looked back, there was nothing of Maleficent but an unearthly black puddle on the ground. Hype sheathed his sword and smiled at Sly.

At that moment, a more human scream became audible, growing slowly louder. Hype and Sly turned to see Deadpool slam into the ground from above.

"Ouch," he snapped flatly, as though being ironic. He glanced around, and his gaze landed on Sly.

"Soooo," he said. "We win or what?"

* * *

_As I first looked around the wreckage, it was hard to stay upbeat. While no doubt some people had survived the events of the past few hours, it was clear that there had been a lot of casualties. I couldn't help but wonder if my friends had made it out okay. Judging from the flaming remains of the ship, I wasn't very confident._

_I tried to focus on the here and now to distract myself. Maleficent's corpse, little more than a shadow, was pooled on the ground. Hype, our literal knight in shining armour, stood next to it. His energy and lack of wounds only made me realize all the more how much damage everyone had suffered in such a short amount of time._

_The three of us left Maleficent where she lay and began to search for any signs of survivors. I took the Death Note with me; didn't really want to touch the damn thing, but it seemed like a better idea than just leaving it there. The extent of the damage shook me, but Hype's smile never wavered, and Deadpool was naturally being his usual self. Between the two of them, I started to cheer up._

_That's when we saw them. Two figures, visible in the darkness because of a familiar blue glow. We ran up to them, eager to see who it was. The result was a pleasant surprise._

_Dr McNinja and Cole were both hunched over a figure. Neither looked particularly cheerful – McNinja's coat was dirty, and Cole was bloodied and scorched, not to mention obviously troubled by something – but both of them looked a lot less dead than we'd feared. _

_Coming close, I saw Cole was healing Toph. She was clearly badly wounded, but something from the way McNinja directed Cole reassured me she'd be completely fine._

_Once they had stabilized her, McNinja turned to me. He was businesslike and to the point. He diagnosed me as being fine – fractured arm, soon healed, and lacerations, not serious. He used his tie as a makeshift sling for my arm. Then he shooed me away, saying I was well enough to find people who were worse than I was. I didn't argue. Man had a point._

_In all, there were more survivors than the pitiable state of the Halberd would suggest. Heck, a lot of people were less wounded than I was. In the end, we were lucky. Despite it all, we had won. They were gone._

_We had a lot ahead of us still, and the losses were heavy. But as I took in the cold night air and the scene illuminated by moonlight and flame, I felt oddly optimistic. Because there's some truths I try to live my life by; truths that this ridiculous adventure have only reinforced._

_Firstly, that no matter how strange your life usually is, you can rely on fate to toss you a particularly weird month every so often. _

_And secondly, everything is easier if you have the right team._

* * *

_**Well. That was fun.**_

_**You're probably exhausted after reading through a novel length story (I know, I'm surprised too!), so I'll keep it brief. A story crossing over so many properties is a large undertaking, and I was lucky to have many gifted advisers on standby, most of whom were so knowledgeable on their respective fandoms they didn't need to double-check what they told me and were in of themselves reliable sources. Among them are:**_

_**SuperstickmanML: Portal and Professor Layton (who also gets bonus points for his consistent reviewing)**_

_**Jakurith: Avatar the Last Airbender**_

_**And not the least of which, my sister, friggasdottir: The Avengers films**_

_**I'd also like to offer my massive gratitude to Linkara, for being kind enough to retweet the link to this tale on his Twitter feed. You'll notice that in thanks, I spared both he and his compatriots from the gaping jaws of death. It's a give and take in the entertainment industry.**_

_**Do you want more? Is there something wrong with you?! I hope the answers to both questions is a tentative "Eh, I guess." I do have a lot of ideas for sequels, many of which I think are really cool and as such am very willing to write for. But don't expect updates any time soon. Two mini-sequels are in the works, and may be written some time over next year. But as the education system closes in ever tighter around me, don't hold your breath for another story of this scope.**_

_**In conclusion, I hope this story about death and fighting has succeeded in filling you with the holiday spirit. Whatever you plans are, enjoy yourself tomorrow. It may well be the most important day of your year. But for M Bison, it will be Tuesday.**_

_**Goodnight and good luck.**_


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